Unforgiven
by Miotis Kain
Summary: This is actually the second part of a series Final Fantasy fanfics that I started (this is the only one that's finished). This one begins approximately three weeks after the end of Final Fantasy VII. (Finished)
1. Day 1

Main characters are all copyright of Squaresoft. Most tertiary characters are mine, but the others - including cameo characters - are, again, copyright of Squaresoft.  
  
Note: In the story, I often refer to Vincent as "vampire." Understand that it isn't my intention to imply that he's a blood-sucking fiend of the night. This is merely a generic term I use to describe him, which holds no true meaning.  
  
Unforgiven  
  
Day One  
  
10:40 a.m. Junon Hospital.  
  
Rufus rolled up the Sunday paper and used it to smack Heideger on the head, much as one would do to a disobedient dog. Though far from fully recovered, the young president was recuperating well from the injuries he received during Diamond Weapon's attack one month ago. "What the hell do I keep you around for?!" he shouted at the terrified executive.  
  
"Mr. President," the head doctor of Junon's medical division said, "please calm down."  
  
"Calm down," Rufus hissed. "My company's in the hands of morons while I'm stuck in this roach motel you call a hospital, and you want me to calm down." He tightened his robe around him. "No, I will not be calm! I'm sick of calm! Calm sucks!"  
  
"Mr. President, this stress isn't going to help your recovery."  
  
"I agree." He turned back to Heideger. "Have my car brought around front," he ordered. His underling whipped out a cellular and made the phone call. Rufus then proceeded to get dressed.  
  
Realizing that he intended to leave, the doctor rushed to block the doorway. "Mr. President, you're in no condition to leave!" he protested.  
  
"And my company's in no condition for me to stay." He winced as he shrugged on his white blazer; he could feel the gashes along his ribs beginning to bleed again. *No time for that now. Keep focused. I survived Diamond's assault. barely. I intend to make sure ShinRa Inc. does the same.* "Heideger!"  
  
"Yes, sir?" the fat executive responded.  
  
"My car ready?"  
  
"Yes, sir."  
  
"Good." Shoving the doctor out of his way, he walked out of the room and down the hall. Every motion he made sent shock waves of pain coursing through his body, but he was too determined to be deterred by physical hindrances. His mind was set, and nothing was going to get in his way this time. Not his father. Not Sephiroth. Not the doctor. Not even Avalanche. *My company will go under when I do, and I'm not out of the fight yet. ShinRa will be great again. this time, better than ever,* he promised himself.  
  
At the same time.  
  
The Highwind sat on the grassy plains outside Gongaga. Cloud and company had spent the last three weeks hunting down the rest of the Weapons. Only when the final monster had been disposed of did any of them feel their work was truly done. However, minor issues that had been ignored began to arise. Such as: What were they going to do now that the world no longer needed protecting?  
  
Vincent sat down at the Highwind's conference table. "So, it is done. Sephiroth is dead." But even as the words left his mouth, he knew they weren't true. *Jenova is gone, but. Sephiroth, where are you?* Vincent thought to say something, but a feeling deep in his soul told him to keep quiet. An emotion he could only describe as a paternal protectiveness took hold of his heart. He said nothing, but tried to ignore the sensation all the same.  
  
"It's finally over," Cloud said. "ShinRa's done for. Sephiroth's dead. The planet's finally safe."  
  
"So what do we do now?" Tifa asked.  
  
"I know what I'm doing," Barret answered. "I'm going straight back to Marlene. I've been away from her too long. She probably misses her daddy."  
  
Cloud remembered back to when they had arrived in Costa Del Sol after stowing away on a cargo ship. Everyone had gone off to do his or her separate things while at the resort; Cloud had found Barret at the Inn, grooming himself in the bathroom and talking to himself. "Are you still going to wear that stupid sailor outfit when you go to get her?" the young man snickered.  
  
"What you talkin' about?" Barret shook his gun arm at him. "I hate that thing! I don't ever want to see it again. So what makes you think I'm going to ever *wear* it again?"  
  
"Well, back in Costa Del Sol I heard you."  
  
"Well, back in Costa Del Sol you were probably suffering from too many bangs to that spiky-assed head of yours and didn't know what you were hearing."  
  
Yuffie, eager to help embarrass Barret, chimed in with, "Then why's it sitting at the bottom of your travel pack?"  
  
Barret flushed, but used rage to hide his humiliation. "What're you doing going through my travel pack?"  
  
"Looking for Materia," she replied with a wink.  
  
Deciding it was time to change the subject, Tifa turned to Red XIII and asked, "So, what will you do Red?"  
  
Red XIII sat down and looked at her. His furry features were solemn, but full of pain. "I shall go back to Cosmo Canyon. That is where I belong. Someone needs to protect it, now that Grandfather's gone."  
  
Yuffie piped up, "Yeah, I'm going home, too. Do you guys still need all your Materia? 'Cause if you don't, I'll be more than happy to put it to good use." She smiled in that way that made everyone wonder what she had planned.  
  
"You going home too, Cid?"  
  
The scruffy pilot shrugged. "Hell no! I ain't going back to Rocket Town. That place is more dull than an old folks home."  
  
"So what are you going to do?"  
  
"I don't know. I've got nowhere to go, and nothing to do."  
  
"I, too, have nowhere to go," Vincent added. "I suppose I'll simply find someplace peaceful to settle down."  
  
"Yeah, I'll probably do the same."  
  
Tifa looked disappointed. Her eyebrows drooped, and tears rimmed her eyes. "Oh. So I guess this is good-bye." Her voice was full of emotion.  
  
"It seems so," Red XIII padded over to her. "But good-byes are never forever. I am sure we will all meet again."  
  
"Hey, don't be so glum." Cid rose from his seat. "We're just doing our own thing now that our work is done. You act like we're dying or something. Tell you what. I'll leave the Highwind with you and Cloud. That way, when you two feel like visiting any of us, you can just fly on over to us. That sound good to you?"  
  
She nodded weakly, grateful for the offer but still saddened by what was to come. "We'll come visit," she assured him.  
  
"Just be sure you tell us where you are when you get there," Cloud reminded the group. With that, everyone departed, leaving Cloud and Tifa alone.  
  
They sat in silence for nearly two hours before Cait Sith came rushing into the room. He looked greatly disturbed. "Guys!" He stopped and looked around. "Where is everyone?"  
  
"They all went their separate ways," Cloud told him. "What is it?"  
  
"We've got problems."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Rufus is back."  
  
2:30 p.m. Rufus's office in Junon.  
  
Rufus sat at his desk and scanned the file displayed on his computer screen. There were so many casualties, both financial and resourceful. He shook his head, dislodging his golden locks, and sending them to hang in his face. He ran his hand through his hair to straighten it out. *This will take years to repair in the best conditions. How to go about it?* His mind was pulled from his homework when Reeves walked through the door. He didn't even look up. "What is it, Reeves?"  
  
"Whatever you're planning, it won't work," the executive threatened.  
  
"Oh, really?" There was no hint of concern in his voice or face. "And why is that?"  
  
"Avalanche will stop you."  
  
A wry smile and low chuckle was the only response.  
  
"They'll see to it that no one ever suffers because of ShinRa again."  
  
Rufus finally raised his head. The expression on his face said, *What are you, an idiot?* He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. "And what do you think the people are doing now without ShinRa Inc. to support them? Dancing in the streets? I don't think so. Take a look for yourself." He spun the computer screen around so Reeves could see it. "Since Weapon's attack the economy's gone down twenty percent, and it's still falling. Costs for damages are up into the trillions, not to mention the death toll is worse than that of the war." He paused and allowed Reeves to assess the information. "Now, do I have to explain the total effect this is going to have on the world, or can you figure it out on your own."  
  
"My God."  
  
"ShinRa's needed to keep the economy afloat. How long do you think the world will be able to maintain itself before it financially collapses?" There was no answer, only quiet shock. "You see my point, then." He stood, and placed his hands on his desk. With subtle venom in his voice, he told Reeves, "Tell your buddies in Avalanche not to interfere, Reeves. I will not allow them to plummet the world back into the Dark Ages because of their misconceptions and silly notions of heroism." He waved a hand at the executive. A dismissal. The young president returned to his work, and left Reeves to stand in the office, shocked and confused. After a minute or so, he turned and paced down the stairs.  
  
Once Reeves was gone, Rufus sighed and massaged his temples. *This is going to be fun. Avalanche will have its nose in everything we're doing so long as we're using the Mako reactors. So, if we want them to mind their own flipping business, we can't use the reactors. But we'll need the power, or reconstruction will take decades. That leaves two options: put up with Avalanche's mischief, or find a new source of power.*  
  
He picked up his phone and dialed up Reno's cellular. "Reno, it's President Rufus. No, I'm not dead. Listen. Are you and the Turks still working for me, or have you decided to retire young? . It's nice to know Elena hasn't lost her zeal. Okay, here's what I need you to do: find all of ShinRa's scientists and bring them to Junon. Tell them I've got something very important to do. I'll tell them when they get here. Oh! And before you go, find Cid, too. Yes, Cid Highwind. Well, do you know of a better engineer? . Thought not. Get to work. I'll explain things when you get here." He hung up the phone, sighed again, and went back to his own work.  
  
2:45 p.m. Somewhere in the Northern Crater.  
  
Sephiroth woke with a start, reacting to a nightmare he couldn't remember. Sweat poured down his face and torso. He instinctively looked around him, searching for whatever unseen threat his dream had presented to his subconscious, and found himself lying on the cold stone ground of a large cave. There was only one opening, which was off to his right, a cold draft floating in from its gaping maw; Sephiroth shivered as his evaporating sweat leeched the heat from his body. He hugged his arms to his chest in an attempt to keep warm. *I wish I had my trench coat,* he thought.  
  
He stood, but slipped and ended up flat on his butt again. Inspecting his footing, he found his coat under his feet. Standing up again, he shrugged it on, and drew it tightly around himself, still shivering. He found Masamune lying a few feet from him in a puddle of Mako; he picked it up, and sheathed it.  
  
*Where am I? And how did I get here, for that matter? I don't remember. I remember Holy. I remember Cloud coming to kill a clone, thinking it was me, and. and then what? My mind must have blanked out, but why? What happened that caused me to lose control? Jenova. That's the only answer. Did she not trust me to kill him?* Bitter revelation hit him so hard he staggered back a step. Despair and rejection coiled around him as the truth came into light. His heart sank. *No. She didn't need me to kill him. I'd served my purpose when I summoned Meteor. She used me. Story of my life.*  
  
The soldier approached the single opening, and walked through to the adjacent cave. It was smaller, and green with the Mako soaked into its stone. A maze of stalactites and stalagmites was the only adornment to the room. Unable to remember seeing this particular room before, he began to pick his way across it, following the persistent breeze. On the other side he found another opening.  
  
He discovered a well with a long natural spiral path of rock leading upward. With a non-chalant shrug, he ascended the path. It rose for at least seventeen stories before it spit him out in a long tunnel that led to the southern edge of the Northern Crater.  
  
He blinked. *This is a long way from the planet's core.* He looked up at the sky. Meteor was gone, which meant Jenova was, too. He scolded himself for his lack of resolve. *Well, there's nothing I can do about that now.* He looked down the Crater wall, a cliff of sheer rock. "Oy, this should be fun," he groaned. After strapping Masamune firmly to his back, Sephiroth made his slow descent down the icy wall.  
  
3:57 p.m. Plains outside the Gold Saucer.  
  
Vincent and Cid walked in silence, feeling remorse at parting with their comrades, though Vincent looked as stoic as ever. The two men had decided to travel together; at least they would have each other's company for a time. After a while, Cid broke the silence. "What's bothering you?"  
  
"How could you tell?" Vincent asked in his musical monotone.  
  
"We've been traveling together for how many months? If I can't read you by now I never #$@%ing will!" When Vincent didn't say anything, he pressed. "So what's wrong?"  
  
"Sephiroth's alive," the vampire replied bluntly.  
  
The cigarette fell from Cid's mouth as he dropped his jaw. He froze in his tracks. "What the @#^% do you mean he's still alive?!"  
  
"Exactly what I said. He's still alive."  
  
"How do you know?"  
  
Vincent stopped walking, but didn't turn to face his friend. "I. I just know."  
  
The pilot's face took on a skeptical expression. "You just know."  
  
Vincent nodded.  
  
"So why didn't you tell anyone? We need to hunt him down and finish him off!"  
  
Vincent whirled around and grabbed Cid by both shoulders; there was desperation in his grip. "No, we don't." Cid became puzzled. "Friend, listen to me. I don't know what logical reason I can give you for what I'm about to say, but you must believe me. There is some connection between Sephiroth and myself. I don't know what or how, but it's there. I can feel it. I know he's alive, and if I were to ever actually face him - him and not one of Jenova's little magically altered clones - I don't think I would be able to bring myself to kill him. I know wouldn't." His grip slackened, and his arms fell lifelessly to his sides. "He doesn't need to die. I know he doesn't really want to destroy the world. He's not evil."  
  
Cid stood there for long minutes, undoubtedly contemplating what he had just been told and his friend's sanity. "All right, Vince. I'll trust you on this one, but I hope you're not wrong."  
  
"How many times have you known me to be wrong?"  
  
Cid shook his head, and laughed. "Never. Never in the few times you've ever said anything, that is."  
  
They resumed their walk, and again there was silence. They spent an uneventful two hours traveling the open plains of the western continent. There were few monsters, and even fewer animals. There was only flat landscape covered with waist-high grasses. The mountains were to their left, hazed by the distance between them and the two men.  
  
Around four fifteen, the unfiltered heat of the sun was becoming unbearable.  
  
Vincent took off his cloak in an attempt to cool off; he stuffed it into his pack. However, his ebony hair and clothes did nothing to avert the heat. The strip of cloth tied around his forehead was drenched with sweat, as was the neck of his shirt. Wherever his skin was exposed sweat glittered on its surface.  
  
Cid was no better off. He had removed his flight jacket and scarf, and was dragging them behind him. Sweat stains marked the armpits of his shirt; his face was red from the sun's abuse. He looked around him, hoping to find some water or shade, but saw nothing. He didn't even recognize where they were. "Damn, it's *$^#ing hot."  
  
Vincent nodded his agreement, but remained silent. A drop of sweat dripped from the tip of his nose.  
  
Sick of the quiet more than the heat, Cid kept talking. "This heat's something else, huh?"  
  
Vincent nodded.  
  
"We need to find someplace to catch a nap. Preferably somewhere with some shade. Water would be even better."  
  
Again, Vincent just nodded.  
  
The vampire's silence was beginning to annoy the pilot. "Sooooo," he said in a last ditch attempt to strike up a conversation, "where should we go?"  
  
"I'm not sure," was the response.  
  
*Finally!* Cid thought. *It speaks!* "Hmm, we could go to Costa Del Sol."  
  
Vincent shot a glance at the sky, but quickly returned his gaze to their chosen path. "If the heat there is like it is here, then there is no way I'm going to stay there." He shrugged. "Perhaps the Northern continent?"  
  
Cid shivered. "Too cold." He thought for a moment. "Mideel?"  
  
"Maybe. But we would have to make a stop in Junon. There's no boat going directly to there from Costa Del Sol."  
  
"That's okay. It's not like we'll be there long."  
  
"Very well. That would make our immediate destination Costa Del Sol." He checked his watch. "We should get there by tomorrow morning."  
  
"Works for me, but I still think we need some water and shade."  
  
Vincent nodded.  
  
8:51 p.m. Cave on the Northern continent.  
  
Sephiroth ducked into a cave. He moved to the side, and kept his back to the wall. Outside, he could hear the wind howling. The blizzard had sneaked up on him, and so he'd spent the last half-hour looking for shelter from its brutality. He was now thoroughly drenched and well on his way to a severe case of hypothermia.  
  
He wrung the water from his long silver hair, even as he shook uncontrollably. He fought hard to concentrate on a fire spell, and after some extra effort he managed to conjure up a fist-sized ball of flame; the cold had numbed his mind as well as his body. He further focused his mind causing the ball to grow to twice its size. He sighed. *Not much, but it's all I can manage. The storm sucked all the strength right out of me, and I don't have any Materia.*  
  
He drew the fire closer to him, felt its warmth slowly drive the chill from his flesh. His body eventually stopped its trembling. He slid down the wall to sit on the ground, drawing his knees to his chest and the fire closer. *I suppose I'll have to wait here until the storm dies out. Then the trick will be finding where I wandered to while my sense of direction was upside- down and backward. If I had known this was going to happen, I would have stayed in Ice Town for a day or so.*  
  
A/N: For the life of me, I could not get some things to work right when I uploaded this story. So, there are some grammatical errors I couldn't fix, and others that had to be changed (i.e. *'s around parts that should have been italicized). Oh, well. Tell me what you think. If nobody likes it, then I'm not going to bother to post the rest of it. 


	2. Day 2

Day Two  
  
6:23 a.m. Somewhere between the Eastern and Western continents.  
  
The ocean sparkled, a warm breeze raising a light spray of sea mist. Cid puffed on a cigarette as he leaned on the railing of the transport. He watched the wake left by the ship, and wished he still had the Tiny Bronco. *I'd rather fly than swim,* he mused.  
  
"Reminiscing?"  
  
Cid jumped and swerved around so fast he nearly tumbled over the railing. Vincent was standing behind him, arms crossed and face as stony as ever. Cid placed a hand over his heart, which was pounding with such a fury he thought it would leap out of his chest. "Vince, you scared the shit outta me! I wish you'd make some noise when you move."  
  
"Sorry," Vincent responded without emotion. He joined Cid at the rail and stared out at the horizon.  
  
"Just wishing I had the Tiny Bronco," he answered his friend's question. He took a final drag on his cigarette, and flicked it into the water.  
  
"You'll fly again."  
  
"You think so?"  
  
"It's hard to keep a man on the ground when his head is always in the clouds."  
  
The pilot looked contemplative for a moment, then laughed suddenly and slapped Vincent on the back. "Ha! You really know how to make a guy feel better about himself." He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out another cigarette.  
  
Out of the blue, Vincent said, "I thought the Turks were retired." He seemed to speak to no one in particular, but he turned around as if to face someone. Cid followed suit, and sure enough, Reno, Rude, and Elena were there.  
  
"Good ears," Rude commented.  
  
"Can we help you?" Vincent inquired.  
  
"We're here for Cid," Reno explained. "President Rufus requires his assistance on a project."  
  
"Rufus? I thought that &*^!ing kid got aced by Weapon."  
  
"No, he's alive, and we have direct orders to bring you to Junon to meet with him."  
  
Cid and Vincent exchanged silent glances, and then regarded the three Turks. "All right," Cid agreed. "I'll go, but Vince is coming with me."  
  
"That seems reasonable enough. for now." Reno pulled a cellular from his jacket pocket and made a call. To the person on the other end, who Cid and Vincent assumed was Rufus, he said, "Yes, sir. We've found Cid, and he's agreed to come, but he insists that one of his friends tag along. Um hmm. Okay. Yes, sir. We're on the transport to Junon right now. We should be there in a few hours. Yes, sir." He hung up. He addressed Cid and Vincent. "When we dock at Junon, we're to take you to meet with the President immediately. That a problem?"  
  
"Not at all," Vincent assured.  
  
8:30 a.m. City of the Ancients.  
  
Sephiroth cursed. Blood drooled from a large gash in his palm, the one he had just received from a jagged edge of rock. Climbing down this cliff face was a royal pain in the rear - and now his hand - but it was the only route to the City of the Ancients, and that was the quickest way to civilization. He dropped the last twelve feet to the ground. Having nothing to wrap his wound with, he made a fist to slow the bleeding. He continued walking, and within fifteen minutes was at the outskirts of the city.  
  
It was the same old scenery that he'd seen nearly a month before: the oversized spiral shell houses, the shell walkways, the few stone buildings, scattered plant life, and open space. Not as if he was expecting a change, but the place *felt* different. Though he knew it had long been deserted, the soldier couldn't help but feel he wasn't alone. He stood perfectly still, allowing his senses to absorb information from his surroundings. He couldn't tell if someone else was there or not. Deciding that treating his injury was the immediate importance, he pressed further into the city.  
  
Sephiroth made his way to the crossroads, a simple four-way intersection. The path to his left led to Water Valley, which eventually led to the Sleeping Forest, and then on to Bone Village. The path in front of him led to the remnants of a large stone building, whose backroom connected to a type of coliseum with a large crystal at its center; he still wasn't sure what it was for. The path to his right ran back to the north, cut through a thick grove, and came out at another shell building seated next to a large pool of water; a giant shell pavilion covered the entire area. That was the route he would take. He needed to clean his wound and that was the best place to do it.  
  
Still clutching his bleeding appendage, he started up the path, the heels of his boots making hollow echoes on the shell walkway. The emptiness of the place seeped past his emotional barriers, instilling a twinge of loneliness in him. He tried not to focus on it, but the persistent feeling continued to plague him. He began to run, as though the emotion was some physical threat he could escape.  
  
He broke through the grove and slid to a halt by the water's edge. Sunlight filtered through a crack in the shell tent; it struck the crystalline surface of the water, and was reflected and refracted into a dazzling aura. He carefully removed his bloodied glove, and knelt next to the water. Ripples rose to mar the perfect surface of the pond as Sephiroth dipped his hand in. Pain stabbed into his ravaged flesh, the icy cold of the water seeping into his veins. A crimson haze formed around his hand, his blood diffusing into the clearer liquid.  
  
Though he was intent on his hand, Sephiroth saw movement at the edge of his vision. Not merely the rippling of the water's surface, but of something separate of his surroundings. He raised his eyes, their attention drawn to the other side of the pond.  
  
There was the reflection of a young woman. She knelt at the water's edge, hands clasped. Her face was disturbingly familiar. Soft brown hair cascaded down her back, and her Mako-green eyes - not unlike his own - were intent and focused, yet at the same time gentle and understanding. Her plain pink dress hugged the curves of her body, the last five buttons left undone. Aeris.  
  
Sephiroth looked up. He was alone, no one else at the pond. He looked back to the water; the reflection was still there. After a moment the figure rose to her feet, and turned away, heading off as though the actual person was going to the building just across the water. Curiosity seized his mind, and Sephiroth followed, his wound completely forgotten.  
  
He entered the building with caution, taking in all its aspects. The only thing out of place was a glass staircase in the center of the room; it spiraled downward into the city below. He raised a superior eyebrow. *That isn't supposed to be here. It's in the middle of the day, and it should only appear at night.* He drew Masamune, and proceeded down the stairs.  
  
Sephiroth reached the bottom. He walked out of the small receiving room, his sword poised in front of him. He didn't sense any danger, but his muscles tensed in anticipation. And went slack. Masamune fell from his hand to clatter on the ground. What he saw utterly stunned him. He was unable to move, his feet cemented in place. His throat tightened. Aeris.  
  
She was there, at the altar. She knelt there, bathed in some ethereal light, her head bowed and hands clasped, just as she had the night he killed her. She radiated an air of tranquility. The sweet scent of flowers drifted through the air to tickle his nostrils. It was almost as if history was repeating itself.  
  
Drawn by some unseen force, he took a step forward. Another. He soon found himself walking up the stairs of the altar, one slow step at a time. His breath caught in his throat. *Am I dreaming? Is this real? . It can't be. She's dead. I killed her myself. It's just my imagination. It has to be.* He placed a single boot on the altar. Just then, she looked up. He froze. Her eyes met his, and her face broke into a smile so warm he thought he would melt where he stood. There was no contempt there in her face, nor hate or condemnation of any sort. There was only forgiveness, understanding, and . something else. What it was he couldn't tell, but he could see it there, in her eyes.  
  
"Sephiroth." Her voice was gentle, and full of compassion.  
  
He couldn't speak.  
  
She stood, and walked to him. She reached out to him.  
  
He didn't move.  
  
She touched his shoulder, then let her fingers trace down his arm; she took his hand in hers, and gave it a gentle squeeze. He winced as pain raced up his arm. It was his wounded hand. She looked down at his hand, and gasped when she saw the blood. She turned his hand over so that she could inspect the wound. It was still bleeding excessively, the blood banishing the flowery air and replacing it with its own metallic scent.  
  
Every instinct in his body, every rational thought, told Sephiroth to pull his hand away, but he couldn't. His muscles refused to respond, despite the ranting of his mind. He couldn't stop staring at her. She was here, warm and alive. He could feel her hands caressing his own, their soothing touch penetrating the pain. *Move, idiot! Don't just stand there! There's no telling what she plans to do. Hellooooo! Wake up!* Sephiroth blinked as though he had woken from some spell. He drew his eyes from her face down to his hand. He tried to pull it away from her, but she held on. He tried again; this time she pulled back.  
  
"What are you doing? I can't help if you keep pulling away." She gripped his wrist so not to hurt him further, and gave another tug. He stumbled over the final step, and nearly fell on her. He recovered, pulled his hand free, and took a step back. Unfortunately, he missed the step behind him, and stepped out into open space. He fell backwards down the stairs, and landed with an audible thud at the bottom.  
  
Aeris ran down to him, and tried to help him up, but he pushed her away. "What's with you?" he asked coldly. "You're not supposed to treat the guy who killed you like your best friend." She sat on the ground next to him. She didn't try to make contact, but she wouldn't stop gazing at him. He found it rather unnerving. "Would you quit that?"  
  
She gave him a questioning look.  
  
He clarified. "Staring at me. Would you quit staring at me?"  
  
She suddenly looked sad. "Sorry." She cast her eyes down at the ground. "Will you at least let me look at your hand?" He sighed in annoyance, but made no move to resist when she took up his wounded hand again. She inspected it carefully, and then muttered a quick spell. Tendrils of soft, green light formed around his hand; they wove around the gash, slowing the bleeding and knitting the flesh back together. Within seconds, the only remnants of the injury were the various pools and trails of blood tracing the stone floors. "There. All better." She smiled, and kissed his hand, which he drew away and instinctively massaged with the other.  
  
Sephiroth sat there for a moment, not knowing what to say or think or do. *Why is she being this way? I killed her, tried to destroy the world, and caused her friends immeasurable misery. Still, she acts as if I'd done nothing wrong. No, more like I did her some great favor. I don't understand.* He finally decided to talk to her, as she was beginning to look lonely. "How is it that you're still alive, anyway?" he asked harshly.  
  
She shook her head. "I don't know."  
  
"You don't know?"  
  
"No. Maybe it wasn't my time. I remember hearing the planet say I needed to help you, but that's all."  
  
"Then maybe you can tell me why you're being so nice to me? Anyone else would probably have tried to kill me, had they been in your position."  
  
She made herself more comfortable, making it obvious that this could take some time.  
  
*Oh, great,* he griped to himself.  
  
She cleared her throat and began. " After. the incident" - he knew she was referring to her murder at his hands - "my mind completely blacked out. When I came to everything was kind of blurry, but after a while it cleared up. I thought I was dreaming. Maybe I was. I saw you, but you were only a boy, probably around seven or eight. You were sitting under a tree at a playground. You were reading by yourself while the other children played, and had fun. Two boys came up to you. They started teasing you about how different you were from the rest of the children, and when you just ignored them, they tried to pick a fight. You tried to walk away, but they wouldn't leave you alone. No one tried to stop them. They ganged up on you, and forced you to fight. When the teacher asked what had happened, you were the one who got the blame.  
  
"That vision faded, and another appeared. You were older in that one. You were a teenager, and had just been drafted into the army. Your drill sergeant was a cruel man. Whenever anyone did something wrong, he would strike them. Of everyone, he hated you the most. He would find a fault in everything you did, no matter how trivial it was. The other soldiers blamed all their misfortunes on you. Despite these facts, you made First Class quickly, and were sent off to the war. You were placed under the General's command. He saw your talent as a soldier, and encouraged you to work harder. He talked with you, and helped you to hone your abilities. He thought of you as a son. He saw his soul in the tortured remains of yours. For the first time in your life you had someone who understood you, who cared about you. He was the one who gave you the trench coat you wear even now. It was his coat, which he passed on to you.  
  
"Your battle prowess won you much fame, and you were soon made the General's second-in-command. You were placed in charge of your own regiment. During that time you met a young man, another First Class soldier. You grew close, and became best friends. He was a person you could share anything with, even things you couldn't share with the General. He was handsome, and the other soldiers didn't like the thought of a pretty- boy being in the army, but you didn't care and neither did he. You didn't see him as a pretty-boy. You simply saw a friend in whom you entrusted your deepest secrets and your life.  
  
"Two years before the war ended, the General was mortally wounded. You found him, tried to get him to help, but he was too far-gone. He made his final good-byes, told you how proud he was of you, and how he wished you had been his son to raise and care for. Then he died, right there in your arms. It was the only time in your life you ever cried. When you returned to base camp, you received news that the regiment your friend was in had been completely wiped out. There were no survivors among those found, and there were a few that couldn't be accounted for. He was one of them.  
  
"You returned home disillusioned, colder than you had been when you left. People admired you, respected you, wanted to be like you, but it didn't matter. None of them actually wanted to know you. None of them really *cared*, as the General and that boy had. You were alone again. You separated yourself from others. The simple warmth of a friendly smile was a foreign concept to you, nevertheless the actual love and companionship of another person.  
  
"Your entire life was revealed to me. I experienced everything you experienced. I endured everything you endured. I felt everything you felt. All the rejection and hatred and pain. Everything."  
  
Sephiroth scowled. "Pity. You're telling me that you're being kind to me because of pity."  
  
"No." She tried to protest, but he cut her short with a wave of his hand.  
  
He stood, suddenly angry. Rage donned the handsome features of his face. "Well you can keep it. The last thing I want, or *need*, is your *pity*." He turned and crossed the pillars back over to the main platform. He picked up his sword, and made his way to the stairs going to the surface.  
  
"Sephiroth, wait!" She ran after him, grabbed his arm before he could make the first step. "Please, listen to me." He kept his back to her, but didn't move. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to imply that it was pity. It's not. I was shown the suffering you've had to endure. I *felt* your pain. I feel it now, and more. I can feel the loneliness in you, the self-loathing for what Jenova has turned you into. I can feel your sorrow for all that you've done. I can feel your despair. I can even feel your hatred, though I don't share it. I understand. I just want you to know that you're not alone. People can love you if you simply let them. People can forgive."  
  
The tall man was silent. Her words stung, because he knew that they were true. He'd been denying himself any true happiness due to past experiences. He let his own self-inflicted misery allow Jenova to manipulate him to her own desires. He let her use him, trusting in the hollow belief that she truly cared for him. *I'm a fool,* he thought. *I should have known better than to take refuge in such preposterous hopes. Had I not been rendered so blind by my own unfulfilled desires for affection, I would undoubtedly be back with the ShinRa army surrounded by people who would have at least respected me. Instead, I permitted Jenova to mold my will to do her dirty work. Now all I am is feared and reviled.* He clenched his fists in an attempt to give his rage an outlet. His body began to tremble with the force of his emotions. He grew more disgusted with himself for being so weak. *I'm pathetic.*  
  
He felt the gentle touch of a warm hand on his back, the soft caress of Aeris's hand in his own. "There's nothing pathetic about wanting to be loved." He looked at her then. Her eyes were brimmed with tears, the wave of his emotions touching her as well. So, she truly did know and understand what he felt. But how did she know what he was thinking? He was sure he hadn't said it out loud.  
  
He felt a lump rise in his throat as his own tears struggled to break free. Steeling his heart, he fought them back. He wasn't about to break down in front of this woman, even if she did grasp his feelings. There was always a matter of pride; he'd spent too long mastering his emotions to lose it now. "I'll escort you back to your friends, but that's all. Don't expect any miraculous changes of personality in me simply because you happen to know what I'm feeling." He stressed the last word as though it were a concept so utterly revolting to him he could vomit. He didn't want to let on that she'd hit a nerve.  
  
"Thank you," she said solemnly. *It's a start,* she told herself. *Work on it. Don't give up. He'll come around. There's hope for your humanity yet, Sephiroth.*  
  
9:00 a.m. Elmyra's house in Kalm.  
  
"Rufus is alive?!" Barret screamed in disbelief. "How do you know?"  
  
"Cait Sith told us," Cloud answered heavily. "In fact, he had a conversation with him. Rufus gave him a message for us. He told us not to interfere with what ShinRa does."  
  
"And that moron thinks we're actually going to listen to him? Yeah, right. We need to take him out, and this time we make sure he doesn't come back. That damn cat gonna help us, or he still playing both sides?"  
  
"Sith says he's with us," Tifa joined in, "but that means he's likely to get fired, and so they'll be expecting us. That'll make things a lot more difficult."  
  
"Papa!" Barret turned at the sound of Marlene's little voice. "Does this mean you're leaving again?"  
  
The large man picked her up, and set her on his shoulder. "I'm sorry, sweetie, but it seems Daddy's work's not done yet. I'll be back real soon," he promised. He turned to Elmyra. "Would you mind."  
  
She didn't give him a chance to finish. "Of course. Be careful. Come back soon."  
  
"Hey, don't you worry 'bout a thing," he assured her. He put Marlene down, and kissed her forehead. "Daddy will be back real soon!" He then turned to Cloud and Tifa. "Don't just stand there. Let's go!"  
  
10:15 a.m. Rufus's office in Junon.  
  
Rufus kept his back turned as he spoke, staring out the window that comprised an entire wall of the office. "All right, Highwind, I'll dish it out, straight and simple. I need you to help the other scientists come up with a new reactor, one that won't suck up all the Mako energy, but still as efficient - or more so - than the current ones. Do you understand, or do I need to elaborate?"  
  
"Why do you need my help?" Cid asked.  
  
"I would prefer to have the best engineers possible working on the project. It'll assure less mistakes." He faced the pilot, drawing his eyes away from the ocean scenery; he ignored Vincent, who was standing next to the pilot. "So, are you going to accept the job, or not?"  
  
"What's the catch?"  
  
"You'd be a ShinRa employee again. That's the only 'catch' I can give you."  
  
Cid thought it over. He rubbed his chin, felt the stubble grate against his hand. *Damn! I need a shave. Well, I don't like the idea of working for ShinRa, but it would be for a good reason. I could always quit afterwards.* He leaned toward Vincent. "What do you think?" he whispered. "You think he's flying straight? Can we trust him?"  
  
"He went through the trouble of sending the Turks to find you just so he could ask if you would accept an assignment of reasonable importance. I believe it is worth careful consideration. As for whether he's trustworthy, I see no reason for him to try to deceive us," Vincent responded. "Then again, I've never been the best judge of people," he added with dry humor.  
  
Ignoring Vincent's final comment, he asked, "So, should I do it?"  
  
"Do what you wish."  
  
Cid snorted, a rather unbecoming gesture but not surprising. "You're a lot of help." A shrug was the only response to his sarcasm.  
  
"Well?" It was Rufus. "I haven't the time to wait all day."  
  
"All right, I'll do it. You better not be trying to pull something, or you'll regret it, kid."  
  
Rufus absently waved a hand. "Whatever." He checked his watch, and sighed. "Hmm. Well, since I'm passing that way anyway, I'll show you to your new office; it's right next door. My secretary can handle the paper work." He walked past them, and out the door. He made a left and proceeded down the hall, never uttering another word to the two men following him. It made for a rather uneventful trip. They entered an elevator, and went down two floors to the street below. He made another left and continued walking.  
  
Cid looked up and down the street, noticing they were the only ones there. He thought it odd that the President would wander around in the open without so much as a single soldier to guard him. "Hey, Rufus. Where's your bodyguard?"  
  
"Off doing other work," the young man responded. "The Turks are recruiting more soldiers, who are training to become the new police force. As for hiring an independent, do you actually think anyone would want *that* job?"  
  
"You're not worried about someone trying to off you?"  
  
"I have more important things on my mind."  
  
Cid flinched as though he'd been struck in the face with a sledgehammer. He'd never expected to hear something like that from a ShinRa executive. "What if someone does try something, and there's no one there to protect you?"  
  
"I guess I can only hope that doesn't -" His sentence was interrupted when Vincent's arm shot out and pulled Rufus back just as a bullet struck the ground where he had been. Shards of hot concrete flew into the air. The vampire pulled Rufus around him, away from the buildings. A second bullet sank into his arm, only inches from hitting the President's heart.  
  
"&%%^#$#@^*$&! Where the hell's that coming from?" Cid instinctively ducked low to the ground.  
  
Vincent ignored the hole in his left arm. His keen eyes scanned the buildings; they found their target in a third story window of the building directly in front of them. In a fluid motion, coupled with lightning speed, he drew the Peacemaker, chambered a bullet, and fired. A scream of pain told that the bullet had hit its mark. The sniper rifle used by the would- be assassin fell to the ground, the scope shattering with the impact.  
  
Vincent didn't lower his gun, but instead nodded his chin at the window, a silent message for Cid to check on the person. The foul-mouthed pilot scrambled to his feet, dusting himself off as he entered the building. There was a moment of silence. Vincent was intent on the window, waiting for some signal from Cid. Rufus merely gawked at the man that had just saved his life. There was no commitment for him that would rationalize his actions; he'd simply done it. The young President quickly regained his composure, and settled his gaze on Vincent's wound. He drew a handkerchief from his breast pocket, and used it to bandage the wound.  
  
There was a whistle from up above. Cid was leaning out the window, waving his hand around. "Hey, Vince, nice shooting. He's alive, but he'll bleed to death if we don't get him help."  
  
"You need medical attention, too," Rufus stated. "We'll stop at the hospital first."  
  
Vincent calmly sat on the cold slab of metal that was the hospital table. He hadn't even flinched when the doctor pulled the bullet from his arm; he now waited patiently as his wound was bandaged. The man he had shot had been taken into emergency, and was now in intensive care. He would survive to be questioned.  
  
Rufus pointed to the vampire's arm. "I'll have the hospital charge the bill to me, so don't worry about paying for the expenses. It's the least I can do." He made to leave, but stopped and turned back. "By the way. When the doctor's done with you, come by my office again. I'd like to talk with you."  
  
"About what?"  
  
"It has to do with what happened back there."  
  
*Old habits die hard,* Vincent thought to himself.  
  
Rufus left the room. As he made his way to the hospital's exit, he contemplated his savior. *He looks so familiar. Where have I seen that face before?* He shuffled through the information in his mind, trying to connect thought and memory. *Could he have been an employee? I'll have to check on that when I get to my office. There's something more to this man than being one of Cloud's companions, and I intend to find out what it is.*  
  
Later.  
  
"You wished to speak with me?" Vincent stood in front of Rufus's desk. His façade was one of clam and apathy, but inside he was confused and more than a little apprehensive. What was it Rufus said he wanted to talk about? The shooting? Or was it something else? The President had never specified. Vincent found the lack of knowledge rather discomforting.  
  
Rufus tapped a few buttons on his keyboard. At first, he didn't seem to acknowledge Vincent's presence, but after a moment he spoke. "Between the change in clothes and hair, you look much different now than when your file was made."  
  
Vincent blinked, more confused than before. "Pardon?"  
  
Rufus pointed a finger at the vampire. "I thought you looked familiar when I saw you. I thought you might be an employee so I decided to check out the personnel files. I didn't find anything at first, but then I remembered where I'd seen you. A copy of your file was with the Jenova files." He typed a few more commands, and then began to read snippets from the file displayed on the screen. "Vincent Valentine. Six feet tall. One hundred forty-seven pounds. Black hair. Brown eyes - that's changed. Birthday: October 16. Unmarried. No children. One of the original Turks. Sharp shooter. Trained in numerous projectile weapons and fighting styles. Adept at taking orders with little to no questioning or complaint. Punctual. Effective. Minimum technical knowledge, but more than capable of handling any of ShinRa's equipment with relative efficiency. Assigned to oversee the Jenova Project. Reported missing shortly after Sephiroth's birth. Presumed dead." He faced Vincent, and motioned for him to sit down. "You don't look dead to me. Perhaps you could explain."  
  
"The story is slightly complicated."  
  
"I'd be more than happy to hear it," Rufus urged.  
  
Vincent eased himself into a chair, and crossed his legs. "Very well. As you already know, I was assigned by your father to oversee the Jenova project. Everything went smoothly for the first four months, or so. The project moved along rapidly, and there were few problems within the team. Well, until Professor Ghast's assistant, Lucrecia, revealed that she was pregnant with Hojo's child, and that it was to be injected with Jenova cells as part of the experiment. I argued against it. However, they refused to be dissuaded, and Professor Ghast even encouraged it. Little less than eight months later, Sephiroth was born. Lucrecia died shortly after his birth, and her body disappeared. It was then I decided to leave the project. I received a message from Hojo, asking me to meet him in the basement lab. I went down there, and told him of my plans. That was when he began to rant on how Lucrecia had his child but had always been in love with me. He shot me out of rage, and perhaps madness. He then genetically altered my body, and put me to sleep in the mansion basement. That is where I stayed for nearly thirty years, until Cloud and his companions woke me."  
  
"Anything you're not telling me?" It was meant more as an accusatory remark than a question.  
  
Vincent hesitated a moment, unsure as to what Rufus actually wanted to hear and what he should be told. "What else is there you believe you need to know?"  
  
"Well, your story raises a few questions. Like: Why did Lucrecia die? What happened to her body? And: Why were you going to quit the project? Or maybe: Did Hojo have good reason to believe Lucrecia loved you and not him? Why did he alter your body? Better yet: *How* did he alter your body?"  
  
Vincent nodded. They were good questions, and deserved answering, having been asked. He answered the questions as best he could, his voice slightly trembling from the pain of the memories. "There were complications during Sephiroth's birth. They took their toll on Lucrecia, and we found her collapsed in her room that evening. Professor Ghast informed us that she was dead. Her body disappeared the next day, no one knowing how or where it had gone.  
  
"As for why I was going to quit. I knew Hojo would never give Sephiroth the care he needed. With his mother gone, he had no one to raise him. I decided that I would take Sephiroth in as my own. But I couldn't do that and remain a part of the project that had spawned him, not without further subjecting him to its tortures. So I decided to quit the project. Let someone else handle it."  
  
"So you were going to leave for Sephiroth's sake."  
  
"Yes. However, I didn't tell Hojo my reasons for leaving. Perhaps he thought it was over Lucrecia's death. I don't know."  
  
"Ah. Hojo *did* have reason to believe Lucrecia loved you."  
  
"Yes. Before" - he held up a hand, and corrected himself - "*While* he was seeing Lucrecia, she had been seeing me as well, unbeknownst to the two of us at the time. Obviously, she left me completely for him in the end."  
  
"You didn't fight for her?"  
  
"No. I loved her, and told myself that her happiness was all that mattered, even if it was at the expense of my own. He believed that she loved me, despite the fact that she chose him. I think his experiments on me may have been meant as a form of torture for that very reason. If they were, they succeeded. I find my humanity slowly slipping away from me. I'm becoming less human with each ability that surfaces as a result of his alterations, and I don't know what it is I'm becoming." He looked at his clawed hand contemplatively.  
  
Rufus nodded toward it. "Is that part of it?"  
  
"In a way." He removed it; it slid off his arm to reveal flesh so horribly scarred it might have been taken from a monster's hide. "A beast now lurks within my frame. *This* is the result from when it was first unleashed. This is the mark of what Hojo has done to me." He replaced the metallic claw, once again hiding his deformed arm. "And *this* is my reminder of what form my beast will take." He shook his head sadly. "I'm sorry. I can tell you no more."  
  
Rufus nodded his head slowly; his eyes were deep and focused. He was silent for a long while, assessing the information that had been revealed to him. When he finally spoke, his voice was unconcerned and cold as always. "The Turks are short one member, and as there are no others who are qualified for the position, so it's yours if you want it." He again scanned the company file displayed before him. "You're more than capable of handling the position, seeing as you've held it once before. Obviously, you would have to be updated on numerous aspects of company policy and mechanisms, but that shouldn't be a problem for you." He ran his right hand through his hair, and then leaned back in his chair. "Well?"  
  
It took the Vincent a moment to adjust to the sudden subject change, but he thought about it, juggling his choices and the possible outcomes of each. *Become a Turk again? The thought had never crossed my mind. Is that a life I want to go back to, especially when so many things have changed?* He recalled his human years, his time spent in ShinRa's employment. He had enjoyed his work. It was never truly boring, although the paperwork was always a nuisance. He'd had many friends within the company, all of whom were now either retired or dead; that particular loss had gone unnoticed by him until that moment, and he suddenly felt an empty space carve its way into his heart. With a little research he might be able to find them again, a task that would be much easier with the information held in ShinRa's database. *Hmm, the offer is highly appealing. Besides, it is not as though I'm looking forward to retirement. Relaxation is nice, but not when you have an unknown amount of lifetime left to spend. That would simply instill boredom.* The recollection of how energetic and outgoing he had been forced its way into his mind. He remembered the time he had spent with other employees and his fellow Turks off-duty. But all those people, those dear friends, were no longer there, and there were only a precious few current company employees he knew. There was no telling whether or not he would get along with them, but there was always the chance. He made his decision. "Very well. I accept your offer."  
  
"Great." He called his secretary. "Cara, would you be so kind as to call up Rude, and have him come to my office. Thanks." He hung up, and returned his attention to Vincent. "He'll be a few minutes, so we might as well start on your file corrections." He faced his computer, and began typing. "Let's start with the obvious stuff, shall we. First, we move it from the 'Missing/Deceased' back over to 'Active Duty.' Then we update the file with a report as to why you disappeared." At this he motioned for Vincent to join him on his side of the desk. "You remember how to do these things, right? It's all still the same old stuff, it's just on computer now." He gave a casual shrug, and moved aside so Vincent could file the report. Within four minutes he was finished. Rufus scanned the report before nodding his approval. He moved back to his original position, and continued. "Now we make the trivial corrections. Let's see here. Eyes: red, not brown. Age: fifty-seven?"  
  
"Fifty-seven," he confirmed. He shook his head with disbelief. He hadn't thought about his time in hibernation in perspective to his age. *Am I really that old?* A wry smile crossed his lips. *At least I can safely say I turned out nothing like my father.* The smile was subdued, his attention returned to the work at hand.  
  
Rufus had already finished. "All right. Is everything there correct?"  
  
The vampire examined the file, and then nodded. At that moment, Rude walked through the door. He seemed a little alarmed at Vincent's presence, but he quickly regained his composure. Rufus welcomed the Turk with an informal wave hello. "Rude, I'm sure you've met Vincent. He's just been reestablished as a Turk. I need you to clue him in on to how things work now. Tell him what he needs to know."  
  
"Yes, sir," Rude said. He looked at Vincent. "Come with me."  
  
11:11 a.m. Water Valley.  
  
The rain was light, and there wasn't any wind, but Aeris was cold all the same. She hugged herself and shivered. Trying to keep up with Sephiroth's energetic pace through the rocky bottom of Water Valley did nothing to warm her; if anything, it made her more cold by sapping all her energy. Her strength finally gave out, and she dropped to her hands and knees in exhaustion. "Wait!" she cried, panting. "I can't go on. Can't we rest a while?" She looked at him, her eyes pleading.  
  
Sephiroth stopped, and turned around. He hadn't noticed that Aeris had fallen behind. He simply watched her for a moment, kneeling in the rain and shivering from the cold. The unfamiliar sensation of protectiveness enveloped him, and, with a quiet sigh, he walked over to her. He removed his coat. After wrapping her in its folds, he picked her up. He quickly found an outcropping of rock that would supply suitable protection from the rain. He set her down under the driest portion of it and sat next to her. A rest *would* be welcome.  
  
Aeris curled up next to him, using his shoulder as a pillow, and immediately fell asleep. Sephiroth watched her for a moment in quiet contemplation. Her face was calm and content; her breathing was slow and steady, her warm breath brushing his arm. He leaned his head against the stone, closed his eyes, and let the sound of the rain carry him to sleep.  
  
Aeris woke at early sunset. Sephiroth was already awake; his head was turned to the west, watching the sun drop below the horizon. He apparently wasn't paying any attention to her. She let her eyes wander; they eventually settled on the closest and most obvious subject: Sephiroth. She studied his torso: firm muscle under smooth, pale skin. She traced the lines of his muscles with her eyes, and before long she found herself musing as to what the rest of him looked like.  
  
"What?" Sephiroth's voice pulled her from her reverie. She hadn't seen him look at her.  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"You're doing it again."  
  
"Doing what?"  
  
"Staring. So, what is it?"  
  
She smiled. "Nothing. Just thinking."  
  
He frowned. "Do you have to stare at me when you do it? It's rather annoying."  
  
"Maybe that's the whole point." She brushed aside a bang and winked. Not bothering to give him his coat, she got up and started walking.  
  
7:30 p.m. O'Malley's Bar in Junon.  
  
Rude found Reno in O'Malley's bar. "Reno, man, have I got something to tell you."  
  
Reno put down his glass of beer. "Really? And what's that?" He looked and sounded sober, but Rude could tell he was plastered.  
  
"You remember that guy traveling with Cloud? The one with the red cape and the gun?"  
  
Reno nodded; he looked entirely uninterested.  
  
"Well, he's been made a Turk."  
  
"What? He's a Turk now?"  
  
"Yeah, and he's real adept at the work."  
  
"How do you mean?"  
  
"He knew a good portion of the rules and regulations already. He knew the Turk motto and salute. He knew the hierarchy of the company. Not to mention he had detailed knowledge of the company. I don't think he's new at this."  
  
Reno stared at his glass of lukewarm beer, chugged it down, wiped his mouth, and then stood up. "Well, there's always ways to find out. Shall we?"  
  
Rude gave a single, definite nod.  
  
Elena sat in front of the computer, Reno and Rude leaning over either shoulder. "So what exactly are we looking for?" she asked.  
  
"Look up any files containing the name. What was his name again?" Reno turned to Rude.  
  
"Vincent Valentine," he responded dryly.  
  
Elena typed in the name, allowed the computer to do its work. When the search was finished, the three were surprised to find numerous files that mentioned his name. All were thirty years or older. Many of them were restricted files pertaining to the Jenova Project. She used the mouse to click on the first selection. A lengthy dossier appeared before them. "Wow!" she exclaimed. "This guy was one of the original Turks."  
  
"That explains a lot," Reno commented. He scanned the file. "Hmm. Seems he had a history of trouble with Heideger and Palmer." His eyes widened. "Hey, Heideger's front teeth are fake!"  
  
"Huh?"  
  
The redheaded Turk pointed to a specific section of the file. "Look. Apparently Heideger sent the Turks on a mission without all the necessary information. The situation got nasty, and one of them died. When they got back, the first thing Valentine did was punch Heideger in the face. The fat- ass lost five of his teeth. Serves him right."  
  
Rude continued on in the document, and stopped at another section. "It says here he kicked the crap out of the first general."  
  
"Really?'  
  
"The two were arguing over what to do in a hostage situation. The general said to let the bad guy get away. Valentine said to shoot the hostage. A fight broke out when the general punched Valentine. The general was taken to the hospital with a broken jaw, fractured ribs, a ruptured spleen, and a dislocated knee. Valentine walked away with a bloody nose, and a ruffled uniform."  
  
"Damn, this guy's a riot. So why didn't he stick around? Why'd he leave the Turks in the first place?"  
  
Elena looked through all the available files, but none revealed any information. "I don't know. None of the files say anything about it. It's like he took a thirty-year vacation. I suppose we could always ask him."  
  
Reno nodded, and then smiled. "Yeah, but after we finish reading his dossier. This is great stuff."  
  
8:12 p.m. Highwind.  
  
Barret pounded his fist against the wall. "Damn! Damn! Damn!"  
  
"What's wrong?" Tifa questioned. She sat at the Highwind's conference table, a worried expression on her face.  
  
"The guy we hired to off Rufus got caught."  
  
"What? How?"  
  
"Our lookout said some guy was there protecting him. He said he didn't look like a Turk or a soldier, more like a civilian. He didn't know who he was."  
  
Tifa looked confused. "What did he look like? That way, we can watch out for him next time." Barret gritted his teeth, unparalleled rage painted on every aspect of his features, and Tifa knew something was seriously wrong. It was someone they knew. "Who was it?" There was an edge of fear in her voice now.  
  
Barret threw another punch at the wall; his knuckles cracked.  
  
"Barret, who was it?" she pleaded.  
  
Barret's body shook with rage. He gritted his teeth and managed to mutter, "He said it was a tall man in a red cloak, who had a pale complexion and long black hair. He also said he was real good with a gun. The best he'd ever seen."  
  
It took a moment before Tifa could match the description with a name; she gasped when she realized who it was. "No. It couldn't be."  
  
"Our boy Vincent's with the enemy."  
  
Later.  
  
Cloud tried to stem his hysteria, but Barret's news greatly disturbed him. "It's not true," he told himself. "There's just some misunderstanding. Vincent wouldn't do that, not after all we've been through." He felt Tifa's arms wrap around him, her head on the back of his shoulder. "Maybe it wasn't him. Maybe it was someone else who just looked like him."  
  
"And dressed like him, and could shoot like him." Barret's rage was obvious; he felt the blood boiling in his veins.  
  
Tifa felt her tears trying to break free; she held them back. She was just as upset about the situation as anyone else. "Be strong, Cloud. I'm sure there's an explanation. Maybe we should talk to him."  
  
"Yeah," Barret agreed. "Let's find him, and ask him what's up." He started rubbing his gun-arm.  
  
"Barret, we should handle this calmly."  
  
Cait Sith burst into the room. There was a panicked look on his furry little face. "Hey, everyone! I've got baaaad news."  
  
"Worse than what we've already been told?" Barret scoffed. "I don't think so."  
  
"Cid was just hired as the head engineer for a project Rufus is working on. He's building more reactors."  
  
"What?!" Cloud exclaimed.  
  
"Why that little bastard." Barret ground his teeth together; he shook his fist at no one in particular.  
  
"There's more," Sith continued. "It's about Vincent. He's a Turk again. Rude was dishing him the basics." He scratched his ears.  
  
"Oh, that does it!" Barret flew into a berserker rage, his ranting echoing throughout the Highwind. "I'm gonna hunt those two traitors down and send them to the hurt locker! They're not gonna get away with backstabbing us like this!"  
  
"Barret, calm down, please," Tifa begged him. She tugged on his arm, trying to get his attention. "I'm sure they've got their reasons. Maybe they're trying to bring ShinRa down from the inside." She knew just how stupid her reasoning must have sounded, but she needed to calm him down. "Let's talk to them. Barret, please."  
  
His ranting subsided, but he seemed on the verge of flying off the handle again. "All right, Tifa. We'll talk to 'em, but they better have a damn good reason for working with ShinRa."  
  
10:23 p.m. Somewhere between the Northern continent and Junon.  
  
Sephiroth stood at the stern of the small transport ship. He could feel Aeris's eyes on his back, but after fourteen hours it had ceased to bother him. He simply told himself that he wouldn't have to deal with it for much longer. Now, if only she would be quiet. She insisted on trying to make casual conversation, despite that he wasn't participating.  
  
"Sephiroth, are you even listening to me?"  
  
He turned around to face her. "Of course." He dragged the words out almost lazily. "You're drowning out everything else."  
  
She patted the bench next to her. "Come sit with me." She smiled sweetly. He complied with her request, trying to look more annoyed and reluctant than he actually was. He sat and crouched forward, his elbows on his knees, and continued to stare off into the distance. "You could at least look at me when I'm talking to you."  
  
"Just because I'm not looking at you doesn't mean I'm not paying attention."  
  
"True," she agreed. "But still, I want to see your face, and that's hard to do when you're turned away from me." When he didn't look at her, or even say anything, her manner became one of hurt and rejection. "Do you hate yourself so much that you don't even want people to look at you?" There was no answer. "Or is it me? Is my presence so vile? Are my attempts to reach out to you just annoyances? If you really don't want me around, I'll leave. I don't want to stay if I'm only a burden to you."  
  
Sephiroth said nothing, nor did he show any outward signs that he had even heard her. But inside he was writhing, her words cutting through him and piercing his soul. He felt like a world-class heel. He could tell he was hurting her. Here Aeris was trying to make him feel better about himself, and all he did was make her feel worse. The problem was he didn't know how to respond. It'd been so long since he'd last been shown affection of any sort; he didn't know how to express himself to her. What should he say? What *could* he say? He had no idea what words he could use, or even if there were any. He didn't know what he was supposed to do, how he was supposed to act. He was completely lost. He felt like a small child alone in some dark unknown territory; now there's this angel trying to help him find his way, and he's refusing to take her hand. Worse: he's practically ripping off her wings.  
  
There was a sniffle next to him. Aeris was crying. He felt his heart wrench. *Idiot. Now look what you've done,* he scorned himself. *You've made her cry. Now how're you going to fix that?* Completely ignorant of the proper thing to do, he gave in to human instinct. He scooted closer to her. Reaching up with a gloved hand, he wiped away her tears. "I'm sorry," he whispered, doing nothing to hide the shame in his voice. "I didn't mean to make you cry."  
  
Though the tears still came, she laughed. "How ironic. I'm supposed to be comforting you about your inadequacies, and here you are comforting me on mine." She looked up into his eyes. "See? You can show compassion. There's hope for your humanity yet, Sephiroth."  
  
He cast his eyes down at the ship's planks.  
  
"Why won't you talk to me?"  
  
"I. I can't."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"I wouldn't know what to say."  
  
She turned his head to face her. She caught his eyes, and held them with her own. "It doesn't matter what you say. You can tell me anything. I'll always be here to listen."  
  
She took his hand in hers, and he suddenly knew that words weren't necessary. Looking into the sea of Mako-green that were her eyes, an unfamiliar sensation swelled in his heart, banishing all his uncertainty and apprehension, all the awkward feelings dwelling in the back of his mind. He felt as though he were drowning in it. He welcomed its warm, gentle caress, felt the emotion stroke every fiber in his soul and ease the pain that had so long been a part of it. All traces of loneliness were driven from him, and he knew he would never feel them again. The feeling surged through him, and he could see his own emotions reflected in her eyes.  
  
He felt the feathery touch of her fingers under his chin; they guided his face closer to her own. The words came to him. He finally knew what he would say to her. He made to speak, to give a verbal outlet to what he was feeling, but she silenced him. "Shhhhh," she soothed. Her voice was a whisper, barely a breath. "I know." She closed the final inches between them, and pressed her lips to his. 


	3. Day 3

Day Three  
  
6:15 a.m. Outside Junon harbor.  
  
Sephiroth sat in silence. Aeris was asleep on the bench beside him, her head in his lap and his coat as a blanket. He watched her in her slumber, and smiled contentedly. For the first time in his life, he felt true tranquility with himself and the world around him. The smile vanished, replaced by a miserable frown, when he realized just how short-lived that peace was to be. Cloud and Aeris's other friends would never consent to his newly established relationship with her; in fact, they would most likely do everything in their power to keep him from her.  
  
Then there was always the matter of what he was going to do with his life. Spending every waking moment with Aeris, tempting as it was, was not an option. But, due to his limited field of expertise, there wasn't much he could do. Being a soldier was all he knew, all he ever wanted to be. He'd reached the highest achievement of his dream when he had become general at the age of twenty-three. *Not as if I earned it, though,* he thought bitterly. *The only reason I got the position was because the previous general died.* He winced as the memory of that dear man's death surfaced in his mind.  
  
He absently stroked Aeris's hair; she sighed in response to his touch, and nuzzled her cheek against his leg. He wanted to refrain from bringing her any more grief and pain than he already had. He wondered if there was anything he could do that wouldn't cause problems. Most of the world wouldn't trust him, and the rest would want to kill him. Other than total seclusion, he couldn't see any options that would allow him to live peacefully. Not that he wanted that anyway; he had a violent nature, and without some outlet for it he would probably lapse into a psychotic delirium. Besides, he wanted to be with Aeris, *needed* to be with her, but his presence would only bring her trouble. *What am I going to do? I just don't know.*  
  
There was a glimmer of light on the horizon. Sephiroth looked to the east; the first rays of the sunrise were peeking over the plains of the eastern continent. He could see Junon silhouetted by the morning light. The sky slowly turned from its midnight blues and blacks to shades of fiery red. The water was tinted with its color, giving it the appearance of a sea of lava. The sky and water merged into a single mass of red-orange, disturbed only by the grassy plains.  
  
The ship docked at Junon harbor. Sephiroth ran his finger down Aeris's cheek, and whispered her name. She stirred beneath the heavy leather of his trench coat, rubbed the sleep from her eyes. "Time to go," he said. He helped her stand, and after stretching, she returned his coat to him. He pulled it on, picked up Masamune, and strapped it to his back. They stepped out onto the docking bay. Exiting through the bay doors, they entered Main Street.  
  
There were no people up and about yet, leaving the street deserted, save for the occasional stray dog or cat. Sephiroth felt a knot in his gut loosen. They were safe from confrontation for now. They walked in silence, the only sound coming from their shoes on the pavement. They passed under the elevator; there were soldiers training in the underpass, but they didn't notice the two. On the other side of the lift they collided with Rufus.  
  
The young President winced at the newly restored pain in his ribs, but he recovered before Sephiroth or Aeris noticed. Straightening his hair, he regarded the two. "Never thought I'd see you two again. According to Reeves, you're both dead. What happened?"  
  
"Not quite sure," Sephiroth responded. Next to him, Aeris remained quiet.  
  
Rufus nodded as if to say, *You either don't want to talk about it, or you really don't know, so I won't press.* "Didn't feel like staying on the northern continent?"  
  
"How did you know we came from the northern continent?" Aeris asked.  
  
"You were heading away from the dock, and the only ship in this early today is from the north."  
  
"We're trying to find her friends," Sephiroth told him in response to his previous question.  
  
Rufus gave a questioning look. *We?* He watched the two for a moment - analyzing them, weighing their words - and then winked. "Ah." He understood what was between Aeris and Sephiroth, and knew exactly what complications would arise. "Well, if you wait here long enough, I'm sure they'll pop up. It shouldn't take too long."  
  
Though he showed no external surprise, Sephiroth couldn't help but be amazed at how casually Rufus was taking the situation. It was as though nothing bothered the man, but that had always been the rumor; apparently there was some truth to it. "How do you know?"  
  
"They sent someone to try and kill me just the other day." He paused, and then corrected himself. "Sorry. *Some* of your friends hired someone. I'm not exactly sure who, but I have a general idea. Two of your pals were with me, and managed to protect me."  
  
Aeris stepped forward. "Who?"  
  
"Who saved me? Vincent Valentine and Cid Highwind." He motioned to the elevator. "Would you like to see them?"  
  
Aeris smiled. "Yes, please."  
  
Rufus allowed Aeris to climb in, and Sephiroth after. He started the lift; it lurched into motion with a loud hum. To Sephiroth, he asked. "What are you going to do now?"  
  
"I don't know," was the response.  
  
"Soldier is still in need of a general. There aren't any wars, but they'll serve well as police, and I've got the feeling they'll be put to good use." He turned to Aeris. "No offense, but I just don't trust some of your friends to behave themselves, and I'm sure they won't be the only ones." The lift came to a halt. Rufus got off, waving a hand for them to follow. "The position is yours if you want it," he continued. He began walking down a stretch of hallway.  
  
"Why do you want me?"  
  
"You're the most qualified, and I'd prefer to have the best on the job. More than anyone, you'll know how to handle those, shall we say, unruly situations."  
  
"Rather unorthodox interview."  
  
"Yeah. Well, since my near-death experience at Diamond Weapon's blasters I've been doing a lot of things that are non-standard. So do you want the job? ShinRa could really use your expertise. Especially now, when things are so rough on everyone."  
  
Sephiroth was silent. He contemplated the decision before him. *Back to my old job, just with a little twist? It's almost too good to hope for. I'd have to talk about it with Aeris. I can't make this decision without her.*  
  
She knew him too well already. Aeris laid a hand on his shoulder, her own silent consent.  
  
"All right, I'll do it. I just hope you don't regret it.  
  
Rufus stopped his brisk pace. He turned his head, and smiled. "I regret nothing, dear General. Welcome back to ShinRa Inc." He resumed his walk, and stopped in front of a set of double-doors. He pushed them open, and stepped inside. After a quick glance over the room, he pointed to a far corner. "There he is." He led Aeris and Sephiroth through the maze of workstations and scattered cubicles. "Cid!" he called.  
  
The scruffy pilot looked up upon hearing his name.  
  
"You've got a visitor."  
  
Aeris waved her hand in the air. She ran to him, and threw her arms around his neck. "I'm so happy to see you. How have you been?"  
  
Cid pushed her back, and held her at a distance. He studied her with a dumbfounded expression. "Aeris? You're alive? How?"  
  
"I don't know."  
  
He gave her his customary warm-hearted smile. "Well, it's good to have you back, kid." He spotted Sephiroth. The smile faded, and his eyes narrowed in suspicion. "You're here, too?"  
  
The soldier nodded.  
  
"You still gonna try to @%#^ over the world?"  
  
"No," came the answer.  
  
Cid laughed. "So, Vince was right. That's nice to know." His words raised confusion in Sephiroth, which the soldier did nothing to hide. "Aw, Vince mentioned something about you not being evil. He's not a very good judge of character, but he still tends to be right on a lot of things. I'm beginning to wonder if he's psychic."  
  
"Where is Vincent, anyway?" Aeris gazed about the room, half-expecting him to walk through the door.  
  
"Yeah, where is Vince?" Cid addressed the question toward Rufus.  
  
"More like *who* is Vincent?'" Sephiroth mumbled. No one heard him.  
  
"He's at the hospital having his arm checked. He may be a while. Apparently the doctor wanted to talk to him about something."  
  
"About what?"  
  
Rufus shrugged, as if to say, *How the heck am I supposed to know?*  
  
7:19 a.m. Junon hospital.  
  
Vincent rolled his sleeve back down. The doctor had finished his inspection of the bullet wound, and had been quite surprised to find it healing at an advanced pace. At its current rate of regeneration, it would be completely healed within a week. Where the injury would have partially crippled another man, Vincent would regain full use of his arm. The physician jotted notes down in Vincent's medical records, which had been pulled from the archives.  
  
"Mr. Valentine, when you first became a Turk, a blood sample had been taken for the medical purposes of testing for the possibility of genetic variations or diseases that could cause problems."  
  
Vincent nodded. He remembered the standard procedures.  
  
"When I received word from the President that you were to become a Turk once more, I pulled your file and placed it back on record. Now, I took another blood sample from your initial visit in regards to your wound. Upon inspecting your current DNA template and comparing it with the previous one, I found vast variations in your genetic sequence. It's almost as if someone went in, and scrambled your genetic code."  
  
"Actually, Doctor, that's precisely what happened."  
  
"What?"  
  
"It's a story I'm not at liberty to repeat just yet."  
  
"Whatever," the doctor muttered. Louder, "From what I can tell, a foreign strand of DNA has been spliced with your own. While most of it's fairly easy to discern from your human DNA, there are some segments that have bonded more thoroughly. I am unable to identify exactly what species the foreign DNA is from; it's like none I've ever seen before. I'm wondering how this has affected you. Have there been any vast changes in you since you were last with ShinRa? Physical or otherwise."  
  
Vincent stared at a chair across the room, his eyes blank and a superior eyebrow raised. "I would say so."  
  
"Such as?"  
  
He looked at the doctor. "Something else I'm not at liberty to say, just yet."  
  
"All right," the doctor sighed, though he was obviously discontented with the denial of information.  
  
"Is there anything else?"  
  
"Actually, yes, there is." He went over to the file cabinets, and pulled two transparencies. "I've been the head physician here at Junon for some time. As such, I meet many people, and there was one person in particular I remember. Not for any irregularities in his DNA, though there were some, but rather the boy himself. Quite the handsome young man, and upon looking at you, I was suddenly reminded of him. I didn't know what it was at first, but it came to me. The two of you share many physical features. You're about the same height, same complexion. You have the same facial structure. I wondered if there was a connection. So, to sate my curiosity, I compared your DNA templates." He pointed to one transparency; it was a series of black bars, interspersed with those of a dark gray. "This is your DNA template. The darker bars are your human DNA, while the lighter are those of the foreign." He showed Vincent the second sheet. "Now look at this template. Do you notice the similarities?" When Vincent didn't answer, the doctor overlapped the two pages, and held them up so the vampire could see. Numerous bars on the second template lined up with the darker bars on his own. "Mr. Valentine, do you have any children?"  
  
"No. Why do you ask?"  
  
"Because according to this" - he shook the transparencies - "you're the father of the person this second template belongs to."  
  
Vincent blanched. "What? Who is it?"  
  
"Did you ever know a young man named Sephiroth?"  
  
Vincent's face went five shades paler than it already was. His entire body began to tremble. "Sephiroth? It can't be. Oh, my word." He put his hand to his forehead. "It all makes sense now. So that's why." He sat down in a chair, his legs no longer able to support him, and buried his face in his hands. He fought to stem the tide of emotions surging to take hold of him, and release the beast that lurked within his frame. "Lucrecia, why." He choked on his own words. He sifted through the emotions burning within him, tried to settle on love and understanding; hatred and bitterness broke through instead.  
  
"Mr. Valentine, are you all right?"  
  
"No, I'm not all right." He stood suddenly, his expression stern, and faced the physician. "Doctor, I thank you for these revelations. They have helped me come to terms with my past. While I know that you don't understand what I'm talking about, please take assurance in the knowledge that you have aided me in self-revelation. Now if you'll excuse me, there is something I must attend to."  
  
7:47 a.m. Junon Developmental Department.  
  
The door to the engineering department opened just as Vincent walked up to it. It slammed into his face, drawing blood. The door opened again, this time more slowly, and Rufus peeked around it. Vincent had removed a handkerchief from his pocket, and was holding it to his nose. "Are you all right?"  
  
Vincent nodded.  
  
"Anything broken?"  
  
Vincent massaged his nose, and then shook his head. "Just some bruised cartilage, I think, but nothing's broken."  
  
Aeris's head appeared beside Rufus's shoulder. Her eyes widened. "Oh my gosh, are you all right?" She took the blood-soaked cloth from him, and checked his face.  
  
"Hello, Aeris." He retrieved his handkerchief from her, and placed it back under his nose, which was now dripping blood down his chin. "It is unfortunate that our reunion should be under such circumstances. I hope we can find time for a more appropriate one later. If you'll excuse me, I'm going to go clean up."  
  
Sephiroth had been watching from behind Rufus. He stepped out, his eyes trailing Vincent's retreating form. "Who was that?"  
  
"Vincent. He's a friend of mine," she said. She looked at him; there was a strange expression on his face, as though he was trying to remember something long forgotten. "What is it?"  
  
"He seems. familiar somehow."  
  
Aeris became confused. Sephiroth had no knowledge of how he truly came into existence, and she knew very well that he was too young to remember Vincent. She watched her boyfriend for a moment, wondering what it could possibly be that he sensed in the vampire. Then she saw it: Vincent's face was reflected in Sephiroth's own. The two were so similar; she was amazed she hadn't seen it before. She recalled everything Vincent had said about his past, about Lucrecia, about Hojo, and she realized what had happened. She wondered if Vincent knew, as well. "Perhaps you should talk to him," she recommended, trying to sound casual. "I'm sure there are many things he would like to tell you."  
  
"Hmm. Maybe I will."  
  
Behind her, Rufus moved aside, and allowed Cid to exit the room. "I'm sure Highwind can handle anything else you'll need. I have a meeting to get to, so I'll excuse myself." He left without another word, and stalked off down the hall.  
  
"Do you two want any breakfast, or anything?" Cid asked.  
  
"Oh, yes," Aeris replied enthusiastically. "Breakfast would be wonderful."  
  
"I'll catch up with you." Sephiroth took off down the hall after Vincent. He walked into the restroom, and found the man in front of a sink, wringing water from his handkerchief. He'd managed to stem the tide of blood gushing from his nose. The soldier felt a sudden apprehension at approaching the man. *What am I supposed to say?*  
  
No sooner had the thought crossed his mind, than Vincent noticed he was there. The pale man appeared startled at first, but he quickly regained his composure. "Hello, Sephiroth."  
  
Sephiroth tried to respond, but he found the words wouldn't come.  
  
Vincent finished cleaning up. "I'm glad you're here. I need to talk to you about something." There was a nervous edge to his voice.  
  
"Aeris said as much," he managed.  
  
He gave Sephiroth a questioning look. *What is Aeris doing talking to you?* It seemed to say. Vincent gave his nose one final wipe. He went up to Sephiroth. "Shall we find somewhere to talk?" He left the restroom, and Sephiroth followed. He walked slowly down the hall, turned a corner, and opened the first door to his right. It put the two men out on a balcony overlooking the ocean. The sun was midway between the horizon and its zenith, and the city below was alive with people.  
  
Sephiroth could see a storm of emotions in Vincent's eyes, an internal struggle taking place. Inside him, Sephiroth was confused and lost. He felt as though his innards were turning to jelly, and he couldn't understand why. Why did this one man have such a profound effect on him? He delved into his mind, his heart, his soul, searching for the answer. It crept up on him, and took hold of his thoughts. "I don't think we've met before."  
  
Vincent waited, then shook his head.  
  
"And yet, you seem very familiar to me, as though I've known you my entire life." He crossed his arms. His eyes became unfocused, as though he was deep in thought, and not holding a conversation. "Throughout my life, I've had this dream. It's come to me so many times that it feels more like a distant memory. I." He stopped, not believing he was about to tell a stranger such a precious secret, but at the same time knowing that the man wasn't really a stranger at all. He continued. "In my dream, I'm just a child, a newborn. I lie in my crib, and I see the visage of a man. He watches me with such melancholy warmth. He seems so sad, and yet there's such love in his eyes. I feel safe when he's there. I can hear him talking to me, but I can't understand what he's saying." He paused to study Vincent's face. "He looked like you. Well, there are a few differences. His hair was shorter, and his eyes were a different shade." He laughed without humor. "I always thought it was just my imagination conjuring up the father I never had, but then I saw you in the hall back there, and suddenly I wasn't so sure. Did I remember it, or is it still just a dream?"  
  
Vincent stood in shock. He hadn't known that Sephiroth would remember something from when he was so young, but he had just clearly described Vincent's visit to him prior to being shot by Hojo. In his mind, he searched for the right words. He wanted to make sure he said everything perfectly, though he realized how foolish the thought was; any words he could find would be inadequate to truly expressing what he needed to say. *Just say it, fool. The longer you hold out, the harder it will be later.* "Sephiroth, that was no dream. I had no idea you had those memories, but that's all the more reason for me to tell you what you need to know. Ah, where to start. The beginning, of course. You are well aware of the Jenova Project and its intentions."  
  
Sephiroth nodded slowly. He was hanging on Vincent's every word.  
  
"I was a Turk assigned to oversee that project. During that time, I fell in love with a scientist named Lucrecia, your mother. We were happy for a time. Unbeknownst to me, she had been seeing both Hojo and myself at the same time, and she eventually left me for him entirely. I was. devastated, but I didn't care about my own misery so long as she was happy. A week later she announced that she was pregnant with you. She told everyone that you were Hojo's child."  
  
Sephiroth recoiled upon hearing this; he felt the bile rise in his throat, but made no move to interrupt.  
  
"They revealed their plans to inject you with Jenova cells. I objected, but my opinion was overruled. They continued with the project.  
  
"After you were born, Lucrecia fell ill. She died. At least, we believed she had. Her body disappeared before it was to be buried. I visited you afterwards. I swore to myself that I would not allow Hojo to use you to further his mad purposes. Knowing that Hojo would never provide you with the care you truly needed, I swore to care for you myself.  
  
"The day after your mother disappeared, I received a message from Hojo asking me to meet with him in the basement lab. I went down there, intending to inform him that I was going to quit the project, but not to tell him of my plans to take you with me. He was in a rage when I met with him. He ranted about how Lucrecia had gone to him, but had always loved me. He said she rather you had been *my* child. During his delirium, he shot me. He then used my body for various experiments, and put me to sleep in the basement of the mansion."  
  
Sephiroth shuddered. "So. So Lucrecia was my mother. And Hojo was my father." He leaned against the railing. He wanted to throw himself over, rather than live with the knowledge that he was the spawn of such a despicable man. "How revolting. Through my veins runs the blood of the man I despise the most."  
  
"No," Vincent corrected him.  
  
He looked up, confusion in his face. "But you just said."  
  
Vincent bowed his head. "I know. Until recently, I, too, had believed Hojo to be your father, but he is not. Since your birth, I have always felt there was a connection between you and I. I now know what that connection is. Oh, I was such a fool back then! I had thought that Hojo's actions against me were made from jealousy, instilled by his beliefs that Lucrecia loved me more than him. Now I know that there was more to it. He knew that Lucrecia had lied to him, to everyone. He knew that you were not his child."  
  
Sephiroth held his breath. He didn't dare to hope that what Vincent was about to say was what he wanted to hear. Was Vincent his real father?  
  
"For reasons of his own, the head physician at Junon hospital performed a DNA analysis of you and I. He compared the results, and it was revealed that I am your biological father."  
  
Sephiroth's heart leapt. *Yes!* Despite his glee, he kept his calm. His rational mind struggled to maintain a grip on his composure. *Just because he's your father doesn't mean he actually loves you. What makes you think that being his son means a world of difference to him? . But he is telling me all this, isn't he? Would he bother to tell me the truth if he didn't care? And he did say he was going to adopt me when he thought that I wasn't his child. What does it all mean?* He had to put ease to his apprehensions. "Vincent?"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"If you had known that I was your son." He couldn't bring himself to finish the question, too afraid of the answer it might bring.  
  
Vincent answered it all the same. He placed a hand on his son's shoulder. "Had I known, then nothing in this world would have kept me from being with you. I'm just sorry that I wasn't there for you when you needed me."  
  
"Knowing that's enough." He received a warm smile, and he felt an empty space in his heart fill. His father loved him. His mother he wasn't so sure about. "What happened to my mother? You said she was *believed* dead."  
  
The smile faded, and Vincent's face became a mask of indifference. "Traveling with Cloud and his companions, we found a cave on the western continent. Lucrecia was inside. She was greatly depressed because she had been unable to watch you grow. She was especially despondent that she had never even had the chance to hold you even once. She asked about you, having heard that you were dead. I didn't have the heart to tell her that Cloud planned on killing you, so I told her that what she had heard was true. We returned later, and she wasn't there. I don't know where she is now, or if she's still alive." Vincent relayed this particular information without emotion.  
  
"Oh."  
  
"If you wish to know whether or not she loved you, you can take solace in the fact that she did."  
  
"Did she love *you*?"  
  
Vincent felt a fresh wave of anger rush through him. He barely managed to keep it held at bay, not wanting to subject Sephiroth's fragile soul to his own inner beasts. "I used to think so, but now I doubt it." He calmed himself, and renewed his previous smile. "No matter. The important thing is that you now know the truth."  
  
Elsewhere.  
  
Rufus walked into the conference room. Scarlet and Palmer were already there. He sat down at the end of the table. Heideger waddled in shortly after, followed by Reeves. "Reconstruction is going to be a costly long- term effort," the President began without preamble. "We all know the current situation, and we know how difficult things are going to get."  
  
"Mr. President, why even start reconstruction?" Palmer wheezed. "If it's going to cost so much and take so much time, why not just leave things the way they are?"  
  
Rufus almost slapped him. No, throttled him. "Palmer, the economy is in the dumps, and its getting worse. If it keeps up, the world will soon slip into a depression. How do you think that will affect us?"  
  
The fat man stared dumbly at his boss.  
  
Rufus sighed. "Scarlet, explain to this ignoramus the effects of such a depression."  
  
She happily complied with the request. "ShinRa Inc. has sustained massive damage: financially and resourcefully. We are down in manpower, equipment, location, and capital. As the economy drops, these symptoms will get worse. Prices will skyrocket, people won't be able to feed themselves, the death toll will rise, the company will lose workers, and then the company will lose money. *We'll* lose money. If something isn't done now, while we're capable, it'll turn into a downward spiral, and the world will fall into economic ruin." She gave Palmer a smug look.  
  
"Thank you," Rufus said. "So the question is: What is the most expeditious way to go about preventing an economic downfall?"  
  
"We've managed to replace half of the soldiers that were lost during the attacks made by Weapon, but that still leaves our forces at a third of what they were. We simply lost too many due to other varying. circumstances," Scarlet informed the group.  
  
"Civilian casualties are in the thousands," Reeves added.  
  
"How many?" Rufus wanted to know.  
  
"Approximately six hundred thousand."  
  
Rufus whistled, but his voice was emotionless. "That's a lot of people."  
  
"It's mainly a combination of Midgar's population and a fourth of Junon's. The other cities and towns suffered few losses."  
  
"Were there any survivors in Midgar?"  
  
"We haven't looked."  
  
Rufus waited a moment, chewing over his options, then, "Send a small regiment of troops to Midgar's ruins, and have them search for survivors."  
  
"May I ask why, sir?" the female executive voiced.  
  
"To lure the people into thinking that ShinRa actually cares whether or not they live. The more they think we care, the more pliable they are to our own purposes." His lips twisted into a wicked smile. "If you get my drift."  
  
Scarlet laughed. "This is so much more fun than it would have been with your father."  
  
"Back to the previous subject. What's the world's population?"  
  
"About seven hundred thousand," Reeves supplied.  
  
"You're telling me nearly half the world's population is dead?"  
  
Reeves nodded.  
  
"Great," the President said absently. "The world can throw one giant wake for all the idiots that died. All right. We know the world's population, and we've already employed some of that in Soldier. What else?" he asked, as if he didn't know.  
  
Heideger continued the information relay. "The cost of damages to the company itself is about seventeen trillion Gil. Civilian damages are around six trillion."  
  
"Ouch. How's commerce?"  
  
"What commerce?" Heideger said without humor.  
  
Rufus sighed again, this time more heavily. "Okay, first thing's first. Get that regiment to Midgar. Then, we need to get commerce going again. Start with the basics: food, water, and the like. Those will be the most in demand. Set construction teams to repairing that which is salvageable. Once that's done, we'll move on to rebuilding."  
  
"What about the people?" Reeves asked.  
  
"Well, how quickly we help them rebuild and repair depends on a few circumstances. They could work for us, in which case we'd have more manpower to get things done; this would also give them money to help themselves. Taxes are another issue to take into consideration. Higher taxes means we have more money to put into reconstruction, and so things move along faster; lower taxes means slower going. We could try to find a happy medium, but we all know that'll never happen. If the people don't like what we're doing, then screw them; they're usually the ones who're never satisfied no matter how things are, anyway."  
  
Scarlet spoke. "Mr. President, do you want me to send Sephiroth with the regiment to Midgar?"  
  
"Hmm. No, I don't think they'll need him."  
  
The other executives became shocked. They had known nothing of Sephiroth's return. Reeves was the one to speak against it. "Sephiroth?! As in, 'call down Meteor and destroy the world' Sephiroth? Are you out of your mind?! What kind of insanity would posses you to hire that guy?"  
  
"Watch your tone, Reeves." Rufus's voice was sharp, and his eyes narrowed. "Remember who you're talking to. Sephiroth's reenlistment is not open for debate, but I have no qualms about replacing *you*."  
  
"Who would you have to run the developmental department?"  
  
"I'm sure I can find someone capable of the position, and whoever that person is, I'm sure they'll be far more trustworthy."  
  
"You don't trust me?"  
  
"Honestly, I'd place more trust in a compulsive liar. I'll warn you only this once, Reeves. Betray me, and the consequences will be dire. I'll have no sympathy or mercy for any in this company who work against it. Do you understand?"  
  
"Perfectly," the executive whimpered. "If you'll excuse me." He stood, and left the room.  
  
Rufus waited until he knew Reeves was gone. "All right, immediately after this meeting is adjourned I want Reeves's access to all confidential files denied. He is not to be allowed any information that can be used against the company. He is not to be given the opportunity to help Cloud and his pals work against us. I also want a man on him at all times." He paused to allow the orders to sink in. "Now, unless anyone has anything else they want to bring up."  
  
Heideger interrupted him. "Uh, sir, actually there is something I'd like to discuss with you."  
  
Rufus leaned back in his chair, signaling for him to continue.  
  
"I've been informed that you've hired one Vincent Valentine as a Turk." Palmer shuddered at hearing the name.  
  
"Yes. You have a problem with that?" He smiled mischievously; he knew Heideger had a problem, and he knew why.  
  
"Well, sir, he was a Turk once before."  
  
"I know."  
  
"Palmer and I had difficulties with him."  
  
"I know."  
  
"We would prefer he wasn't a Turk. In fact, we'd prefer he wasn't a ShinRa employee at all."  
  
"And I really don't care what you prefer. He's a Turk, and if you don't like it, then you can quit." He slapped a hand on the table. "This meeting is adjourned."  
  
10:56 a.m. Outside Wutai.  
  
Yuffie was at the Highwind before the crew even had a chance to drop the ladder. She jumped up and down, ecstatic to see her companions again. Since she left their company and gone home, she couldn't have been more bored. Wutai may have been a tourist town, but as far as she was concerned it might have well have been a retirement home. She missed the excitement of traveling with Cloud and the others. She even missed the motion sickness; at least that meant she was going somewhere, doing something.  
  
The moment the ladder was within her reach, Yuffie raced up onto the deck of the large airship. Cloud was waiting at the top. She didn't give him the chance to greet her, but instead began to rant, her words slurring together as fast as they could come out.  
  
"CloudthankGAWDyou'rehereIwasgettingsoboredIthinkI'dgoinsaneifIst  
ayedhereanotherdaythere'sabsolutelynothingtodohereexcepttositarou  
ndandtwiddlemythumbshopingsomethingwillhappenbutnothingeverdoesbe  
causethisplaceissodullandeveryonehereiseithertoooldortooyoungandI  
don'twanttohangaroundhereanymoresowherearewegoing?"  
  
Cloud blanched. "Huh? Slow down, Yuffie. I can't understand anything you're saying."  
  
"I asked you where we're going." She began to jump up and down. "Please tell me we're going to find some Materia. That would be the best!"  
  
Cloud shook his head. "Sorry. We're not going after Materia."  
  
"So what are we doing? . Or did you come here for a vacation?" she groaned.  
  
"No. We need your help with a bad situation." His voice became grim, his expression severe. "Rufus is still alive. That means ShinRa hasn't been taken care of yet. But it gets worse. Vincent and Cid have defected. They're working for ShinRa Inc."  
  
"What?! But why? How could they just turn on us like that? I thought they were on our side."  
  
"So did the rest of us. We've decided we're going to go and take Rufus out once and for all. We're also going to confront Cid and Vincent. We're going to find out exactly what's going on."  
  
"So, let's go! Is everyone else here?"  
  
"Everyone except for Cait Sith. He's in Junon attending a meeting, but he'll join us when we get there. It could cost him, though, to side with us. Come on. Let's get going." He turned and entered the Highwind.  
  
Yuffie stayed out on the deck for a few minutes. A few precious moments to allow her tears of rage to go unnoticed. She wiped them away, and followed Cloud below deck.  
  
12:50 p.m. Junon Developmental Department.  
  
Cid took a long drag on his cigarette and tapped his fingers on the table. He stared at the schematics of the old reactors, as if waiting for a new solution to jump out and slap him in the face.  
  
The entire project reeked of complications. Time - or rather, the lack thereof - was not the least of them. The longer the old reactors were used, the more Mako that would be sucked out, the closer the planet would be to death, and the more Cloud and the others would be putting on the heat. That would simply add to the already staggering stress level. Then there was always the most urgent matter of actually coming up with a new reactor. One that meets the high standards set for it. *I don't know if I can make this happen. There's just so much to take into consideration: power input, power output, materials, location, manpower, maintenance.* He allowed his mind to trail off for a brief instant, but quickly brought it back to the matter at hand.  
  
He took another drag and flicked the butt out an open window. A disgruntled "Hey!" drifted up from below. Cid merely grunted and picked up the phone. When an assistant's voice answered on the other end, he began talking. "Henry, I need you to gather some stuff for me. I'll need all the information you can find on energy production and conversion. I want *everything*. If we're going to do this, we better see where the other methods went wrong." He hung up the phone. Rubbing the stubble on his chin, he leaned back in his chair and propped his feet up on the desk. "Have to start somewhere."  
  
2:20 p.m. Two miles outside Junon.  
  
Cloud was the last to exit the Highwind. When his feet were firmly on the ground, he addressed his friends. "All right. When we get to Junon, we'll split up and scour the city. If you see Rufus, kill him. If you see Cid or Vincent, try to find out what they're doing with ShinRa. Follow them. Ask them yourselves. Bring them back to the Highwind. It doesn't matter. We'll meet back here at six o'clock p.m. If you can't get here, call. If anyone's missing, we'll assume they were caught. Everyone catch all that?"  
  
Everyone nodded.  
  
"Okay. Let's go."  
  
3:00 p.m. Junon.  
  
Cloud walked down the street toward the lift. If Rufus were here, he would probably be in the ShinRa's main building. The hard part would be getting around without being noticed. So far he hadn't been worried about being spotted. It was still early in the morning, so there weren't many people out and about. If he was lucky, and didn't start any trouble himself until he got to where he was going, then none of the soldiers would recognize him.  
  
He noticed something on the ground, and stopped. He knelt down to inspect it. There were metal fragments and drops of blood on the ground. He looked up at the building he was in front of and, yes, it was the same one their hired hit man had been staked out in. His eyes passed over the rest of his surroundings. A few feet into the street he saw some more blood. It was too far from the building to have belonged to their hired man. He wondered whose it could be. The watchman had said Vincent was there protecting Rufus. Could it be his? A part of him hoped it was, while another prayed his friend hadn't been seriously injured.  
  
Cloud stood and continued walking. The lift was just up ahead. He didn't have the time to contemplate Vincent's health. He thought about Vincent's betrayal, and wondered why he cared. *Because he's your friend.* He told himself. *Because you don't want to lose that friendship, whether from his siding with the enemy or to death. You want him to be safe, because you want him to explain his reasoning. You want him to tell you that everything is all right, and that he was never really with ShinRa.* What could cause Vincent to go back to ShinRa? And Cid, for that matter? There were too many questions that needed answered. He pushed them to the back of his mind. He was confident that someone would find Cid and Vincent and get the answers from them.  
  
He reached the lift. *Keep your mind on the task at hand.* He glanced around him quickly, making sure no one was watching, and then boarded. He pressed the appropriate buttons, setting the elevator into motion. *All right, Rufus. Here I come. And this time, you're not getting away from me.*  
  
Elsewhere.  
  
Barret's face was one gigantic frown. He inspected Vincent from a distance; the vampire was leaning against the wall of a building, thoughtfully sipping a cup of coffee. He almost hadn't recognized the man, the simple changes standing out like a beacon. He now donned the Turks' dark uniform, including the black sunglasses, which hid his demon-red eyes from view. His long, unruly hair no longer hung about his shoulders, but was tied back at the nape of his neck. The clawed gauntlet that normally adorned his left arm had been abandoned, replaced by a black glove.  
  
Barret gathered his resolve, made his way toward his friend. The tall, thin man seemed to pay no heed to the bigger man's obvious approach. He remained silent, his eyes closed and one hand in his blazer pocket. When Barret reached him, he waited to be noticed; after a few minutes of discontented silence, it became obvious that Vincent wasn't going to start the conversation. Perhaps he knew just what was coming? *Or maybe he doesn't care,* Barret thought bitterly.  
  
"Hey, Vincent!" He barked. "What the hell do you think you're doing?!"  
  
"Taking a coffee break," he replied bluntly.  
  
"That's not what I mean, and you know it, you pale-faced bastard!"  
  
Vincent tipped his head slightly. Yes, he knew. "But I refuse to speak with you when you're in such an irrational state. Anything I said would fall on deaf ears. or you would take it the wrong way."  
  
"Irrational?! Who you calling 'irrational'? I'd say you're the one being irrational, going off and hooking up with ShinRa."  
  
"This is precisely what I meant."  
  
Barret clenched and unclenched his one fist in an attempt to keep his anger under control. Something had changed in the man. An icy mask, now replaced where there once had simply been a cool and calm exterior, and had Barret not traveled with him for so long, he might not have noticed. "You just tell me why you're with ShinRa. Then we'll see how irrational I can get."  
  
"No."  
  
"What?!" Barret's anger was growing with every word Vincent said. Was he making fun of him, or did he not trust him? "Why won't you tell me?"  
  
"Because you're not very composed right now." Vincent checked his watch and finished his coffee. "If you'll excuse me, I have to get back to work."  
  
He made to leave, but Barret grabbed his arm. "Hold it. You ain't leaving until I get an explanation."  
  
The pale man turned back and briefly met the eyes of his larger companion. Only a moment, but it was enough to allow Barret to see what was there. A crack in the mask through which Barret could see a whirlpool of emotions, not the least of which was pain. Then the crack was gone, and all was unreadable once again. Barret's hand loosened its grip and fell from Vincent's arm. Quietly, ever so calmly, Vincent said, "I'll meet with everyone at the Highwind later tonight. I'll bring Cid. When everyone is there, then you can receive some explanation. Only then." Wordlessly, the vampire turned and departed.  
  
Barret stood in the street for long moments after his colleague had departed. Finally, with a muttered curse, he left the scene and began his walk back to the Highwind.  
  
At that same moment.  
  
Tifa gathered her courage and her anger, and prepared for the confrontation to come. He was alive. That bastard Sephiroth was still alive. But how? Her and the others had killed him back at the Northern Crater more than three weeks ago. She had watched him die. She had felt his blood coat her hands, had watched it drip from her knuckles. She had watched and waited as the last of his life had drained away to stain the ground of the crater. Unless. Unless it wasn't Sephiroth they had fought. Unless it was actually one his clones that had died, and not him.  
  
With clenched fists, she stalked out to where Sephiroth stood. There was a regiment of soldiers lined up before him. Their faces were a mixture of awe and fear as they looked upon the legend before them. Some of them trembled as they stood in his shadow. Tifa still wondered at how she could share those emotions, but her strength and courage were born of pure rage, and so drowned out everything else in her heart.  
  
She walked up to Sephiroth. The man ignored her presence and continued to brief the soldiers on their mission. "All right. President's orders. Go to Midgar and search the rubble for survivors. If you find any, take them in for emergency medical care, even if they look like they're fine. Though, if there are any, they probably won't be. You are not to leave the Midgar limits until it has been twice confirmed that there are no survivors left in its ruins. Understood?"  
  
A unified, "Yes, sir, general sir!" rose from the group.  
  
"Good. Move out!" The soldiers quickly departed, and Tifa couldn't help but wonder if it was because Sephiroth ordered them to, or because they wanted to get away from him. Only after the last soldier had gone did Sephiroth acknowledge the young woman's presence. As he turned to face her, Tifa's open hand shot out and connected with his cheek before he had a chance to react. He stood there for a moment, utterly stunned, and unable to even speak. He blinked twice. Then, "What the hell was that?" He looked down at her disapprovingly. "You swear to avenge your father, and so you *slap* me? Yeah, I've really learned my lesson. I'm sure your old man's proud of you. You really put me in my place."  
  
Tifa felt a fresh wave of anger flood her frame. Tears rimmed her eyes, and broke free to roll down her cheeks. "You." She couldn't get the words out. Her rage flowed off her in almost palpable force. She managed to relax her tightened throat enough to speak. Her voice trembled with the power of her emotions. "You bastard. You don't care! Papa. The townspeople. Aeris. The thought that you've caused so much suffering doesn't bother you in the least. How can you be so inhuman?"  
  
In response, he gave her a wicked smile, devoid of any true humor or joy. "You know me so well. So why does it surprise you?" There was a tone in his voice she couldn't identify, a hint of emotion too masked by venom to be named. "Now," he stated coolly, "if you have nothing of importance to bring up, I'll be on my way. I have things to do, after all." With a swirl of silver hair and black leather, he left her to contemplate just what it was she had heard in his voice that so deeply disturbed her.  
  
4:31 p.m. Junon docks.  
  
She walked the streets timidly, fearfully. People bustled about, busying themselves with the duties of their everyday lives. The flow of people carried her away from the docks toward the mercantile district of the city.  
  
Where was it she needed to go? She had to find him, but where would he be? The Turks were his life, so he would probably be with them. *Even after so long?* She remembered seeing him at the cave. He didn't look a day older, but things about him had changed, and the subtlety of them frightened her. Was he still the same man she had once loved? The man she *still* loved?  
  
She was herded toward a large lift with the ShinRa logo on it. no, a new logo that bared ShinRa's trademark. Rufus. Strange. When had that happened? She could think of no one in the company by that name. Had things changed so much in the last thirty years?  
  
She entered the lift; another three people followed her. One of the passengers pressed a button, and the contraption began its climb to the building above. It stopped and it cargo spilled forth, eager to go about their business.  
  
Looking around, she saw that much had indeed been changed. The interior of the building had been completely altered. The halls were wider, and the ceiling higher. The rooms she could see were bigger. And was that fresh paint she smelled?  
  
She jumped as a door unexpectedly opened to her right. She could hear the voices of a man and a woman before she could see the people they belonged to, and what she heard made her breath catch in her throat: a voice so familiar, so beautiful to her ears that it could only belong to one man. And then she saw him. Vincent. He wore the Turk uniform, and not the travel garb he had been wearing in the cave. His hair was tied back, its unruly locks drawn from his face.  
  
She wanted to call out to him, but the words wouldn't come. His name hung on her lips, lacking the strength to be voiced. She wanted to move to him, to throw herself into his arms and feel his warm embrace once more, but her body refused to move. It was frozen in place by the force of the same desire that cried out for its action. She routed all her strength and will and love into her voice, so that she might speak his name; it came out no more than a whisper, but that was enough.  
  
Vincent stiffened at the sound of his name. The voice was quiet; so quiet, but oh so familiar. He dared to turn and look at her. The sight of her set loose a flood of emotions he had been holding at bay for far too long: joy and sadness, hope and despair, love and hate. Where did one end and the other begin? Were they ever separate? He didn't know anymore. The muscles along his jaw tightened, even as he forced himself to respond to her presence. "Lucrecia." Giddiness and revulsion swelled inside him as her name passed his lips. He swallowed hard on the bile rising in his throat, and tried to calm the tympani of his heart.  
  
There was a long moment of silence, interrupted when the woman, Scarlet, suggested, "Perhaps I should leave. We can discuss this problem later."  
  
The executive turned to go, but was stopped by Vincent. "No," the vampire said quickly, on the verge of utter panic. "Please. stay." His exterior remained stone cold, but Scarlet could feel the grip on her arm tighten slightly, making it all too clear that Vincent was anything but calm. He didn't want to be left alone with her.  
  
Scarlet shrugged. "All right. If you insist."  
  
Lucrecia became nervous. "I'd rather we speak alone."  
  
"And I'd rather we didn't," Vincent replied with utter control.  
  
"I'm not very comfortable with speaking around strangers. You know that."  
  
"Fine. Lucrecia, this is Miss Scarlet, the executive for ShinRa's Weapons Development Department. Miss Scarlet, this is Lucrecia. my ex-girlfriend."  
  
Scarlet gave a slight nod accompanied with a look of utter superiority.  
  
"Vincent, please. Can't we talk privately?"  
  
"I'd rather not be left alone with you." His voice was cold.  
  
"Why?" she asked.  
  
Vincent hesitated to respond.  
  
"Vincent, why don't you want to be alone with me? Please tell me," she begged.  
  
"I don't trust you." The words were difficult for him. He had to force them out. Oh, how it hurt to be so cruel to her! But he didn't feel he could trust her anymore, and - above all - he didn't think he could trust himself. He might lose control, and bring physical harm to her when his beast got loose. Or he might go back to her. Would that be so wrong? He simply couldn't risk it. He might not survive a second heartbreak of that magnitude.  
  
"You don't trust me?"  
  
Vincent shook his head.  
  
"Why? Don't you love me anymore? Is what we shared nothing now?" Tears began to roll down her face.  
  
Vincent winced. Then nodded. "I still love you. But as for what we had. you tell me." He met her eyes. Big mistake. The full force of the pain he was causing her glared back at him from their depths. He swallowed hard and managed not to look away. "Was it nothing? I used to think it mattered, but now I just don't know."  
  
"Why? Why would you doubt my love for you? You know I would do anything for you. Vincent, I love you. I would die for you."  
  
Suddenly, he felt all the anger and hatred inside him welling to the surface. The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them; they poured out, demanding to be said - refusing to be kept silent any longer. "Really? Is that what you were doing when you abandoned Sephiroth? Is that why you chose not to tell me that Sephiroth is my son, and not Hojo's? Is that why you left me and went to him? Was that all for your *love*?"  
  
Lucrecia flinched. "How- how did you know?"  
  
The vampire sneered. "The doctor at the hospital told me. Sephiroth has my DNA. Hojo's own actions against me only confirm it."  
  
She became more confused. "What?"  
  
"After you *died*, Hojo shot me and then genetically altered my body. Because of your boyfriend, I'm losing my humanity. He did it because he knew you had lied to him about Sephiroth's parentage." Inside him, Vincent could feel his beast burning, raging to be set loose. He fought it back. Now wasn't the time. Besides, despite his hatred for the woman, he indeed still loved her. How could it be that those two contradictory emotions could exist together with such unity?  
  
"Vincent," she pleaded, her voice muffled by sobs. "Please let me explain."  
  
He waved a hand through the air. "There's nothing you could say," he snapped. "Nothing that would help me understand how you could possibly do those things and still love me."  
  
"Vincent."  
  
"You made your choice, Lucrecia. Now I'm making mine." His voice was venomous. "Stay away from me. I don't want anything to do with you. I can't pretend like nothing happened. And I can't be with you if I don't trust you." She made to speak, to beg him to listen to her and her pleas of love, but he refused to hear them. "Just go," he ordered as he turned his back to her.  
  
Lucrecia waited, and then ran back toward the lift. She entered it and was gone.  
  
Vincent didn't look back. He stayed where he stood, even as the tears came to his eyes; he let them come. They were tears of pain thirty years in the making, and he now lacked the will to hold them back.  
  
Scarlet remained silent and watched as the Turk cried. There was something oddly disturbing with the sight. Sure, she'd seen men cry before. She'd even been the cause of some, much to her delight. But this was different for some reason. It wasn't pathetic like the others had been. There was a strange dignity to his tears, which raised unfamiliar feelings in her. What was so different about this man? *This guy has some serious issues,* she mused. *She puts him through Hell, and he still doesn't want to hurt her. Hard to find guys that devoted nowadays. Hmph. That gal must have even worse issues if she let a guy like that go. What a twit.* After many long moments of awkward silence, Scarlet reached into the front of her dress and pulled out a handkerchief. She offered it to him. "Come on," she said. "Quit that before someone sees you."  
  
He accepted her offer, but made no move to dry his eyes.  
  
"Hey, if she did all that to you, then you're probably better off without the %$#&@." A rare moment of compassion on her part, but something inside her said it was proper. No, not proper. More like her duty.  
  
"I wish I felt the same."  
  
"Well, at least you were smart enough to get rid of her while you could. Most men are too gutless."  
  
"Are you always so empathetic?" he asked dryly.  
  
"Consider yourself one of the lucky ones." She gave him a wink, and - despite himself - Vincent smiled.  
  
5:11 p.m. Rufus's office in Junon.  
  
Rufus nearly fell out of his chair. Though he managed to stay seated, he failed at stemming his hysterical laughter. A sharp pain in his ribs brought him under control, but it didn't banish his wickedly bemused smile; a smile that remained even as Reeves leveled a gun at his heart. "Ah, Reeves," he sighed. "I knew from the start that you'd betray this company and help Cloud, but I never - *never* - thought that they would send *you* to kill me. I'm genuinely impressed. Really. They must think highly of you if they sent a gutless, writhing worm like yourself to do something so foolhardy."  
  
Reeves held the gun tighter to steady his shaking hands. He tried to keep his voice calm and forceful. "The tyranny of the ShinRa line ends here. Today." His comment simply raised another tide of laughter. "Stop that! Aren't you listening to what I'm saying?"  
  
"Of course. Why else would I be laughing?"  
  
"You're not afraid of dying?"  
  
"Nah. I have to go sometime. but not today."  
  
"Why's that?"  
  
"Because you can't kill me with that gun."  
  
"So you're bullet proof now?'  
  
"No." The young president rose from his seat and came to stand directly before the barrel of the firearm. "You can't shoot me with it, because the safety's on." He motioned to the safety latch on the side of the gun. With a shaky thumb, Reeves flipped it into the opposite position, at which point Rufus promptly took the gun from him. He replaced the switch and aimed the barrel at the executive's head. "The safety wasn't on." With his free hand, he reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a cell phone. He dialed a number and raised the phone to his ear. "Reno, get up to my office *now*." He hung up and put the phone back in his pocket.  
  
There soon was the sound of hurried footsteps coming up the stairs. A moment later, Reno walked through the door. "You called, sir?" he panted.  
  
"Yes. What the hell are you doing with the security in this building?! Having everyone take tea-time?"  
  
"No, sir."  
  
"Then how did this snivelly little traitor get into my office with a weapon?" He shook the gun. "Huh? Tell me that."  
  
"Didn't think to search him when he came in."  
  
"Di- Didn't think to search him?"  
  
Reno nodded.  
  
"I ordered to have this maggot tailed and given no opportunity to help Cloud, and you don't think to search him?" His face betrayed a mixture of rage and disappointment. "What else did you not think to do? Set up guards? Turn on the security system? Hell, Cloud and the rest of his buddies are probably in the cafeteria right now having lunch. Why don't you go join them? But before you do, take weasel-boy here and throw him in a cell. And don't forget to lock the door and take the keys with you when you leave him there."  
  
"Yes, sir."  
  
"Get out." Rufus jabbed a finger at the door. "Now."  
  
Reno grabbed Reeves and cuffed him. The Turk then led the executive to the door. "By the way, Reeves," Rufus interrupted. "In case you're too dense to think of it: you're fired." He looked at Reno. "Don't just stand there. Get him out of my office and get back to work. This time, don't screw up." His underling quickly complied, and removed the prisoner and himself from sight.  
  
Rufus turned the safety on before he laid the gun on his desk. He stared at it, and muttered to himself, "Why do I surround myself with idiots? It can't be to make myself feel smarter, because I feel dumber just for being in the same room with them." He shook his head sadly. "I really need a vacation."  
  
8:39 p.m. Still in Rufus's office.  
  
Rufus looked up from the explosion of paperwork on his desk to glance at the clock on the wall. He should have been home by now. The nightshift had started hours ago, so why was he still here doing what could be left to others? *Because you don't trust those morons to do it right,* he told himself. *Why does the world have to be populated by idiots? And why do they all have to congregate around me?*  
  
Pushing his chair away from his desk, the young president stood and stretched, causing several pops down his spine and along his shoulders. He turned and looked out the window behind him to the street below. They were practically empty now, the people having gone home to their families to bask in their warmth and love. Rufus sighed, not a sigh of longing, but one of relief. *At least that's one headache I don't have to deal with. Marital devotions and siblings and parents. Children. Ugh! I can feel my hair going gray just thinking about it.*  
  
"Huh?" His attention was drawn from his mental griping back to the street; he could see Valentine speaking with a young girl. She looked familiar. Who was she? Short brown hair. Green shirt. Shorts. Oversized shiruken. One of Cloud's friends? Yes, that was it. Or was it? There was something else. Something more. It was the way she held her weapon. The stance she took as she confronted Vincent. It reminded him of the Wutai ninjas.  
  
She turned a little, giving Rufus a clearer view of her face. He recognized her then; she was Godo's daughter. What was her name? Yuppie? Yukkie? Yuffie! That was it. What was she doing in Junon? Trying to find Vincent and Cid, no doubt. *And to kill me in the meantime,* the young man mused.  
  
Rufus absently watched the pair, the well-greased gears of his mind set into motion. *I suppose it's a good way to see just where Valentine's loyalties lie. As for Cid, I'm not so sure. No matter. I won't let Avalanche succeed this time. But what to do with them? Can't have them running around causing trouble. Can't kill them. yet.* A cold smile crossed his lips. *Use them. Take it a step farther than father did. Don't just make them out to be terrorists. Even terrorists have sympathizers. No. Make them the focus for the people's hatred. Make them the bad guys. How?*  
  
Back on the street, Yuffie was waving her arms at Vincent. She seemed to be in a fury. He could just imagine what she was yelling at the vampire. *How could you go back to ShinRa? I thought you were on our side? What are you doing? What are you thinking?*  
  
Rufus sneered - a normally ugly gesture made gracious by his face alone - as he realized what would happen if Yuffie was harmed or used by the ShinRa: Wutai would start a war. True, he could twist the entire thing to his own ends, but wars were costly, and ShinRa couldn't afford it right now. What to do? In the end, Wutai would have to be crushed, but how to go about it? They would see a full frontal assault half the world away.  
  
Down below, Vincent turned and walked away, leaving Yuffie alone in the street.  
  
Yuffie. Yuffie was the key. Now, what was the lock she fit into? Which lock would open the door to Wutai? Rufus wondered.  
  
Enough wondering. Rufus plotted. 


	4. Day 4

Day Four  
  
3:11 a.m. Highwind.  
  
Cloud couldn't sleep. He kept thinking about the fight with Vincent.  
  
*"What do you mean 'it's for a good cause'?" Barret shouted. He violently waved his arms at Cid. "How can anything the ShinRa is doing be for a good cause?"  
  
The pilot crossed his arms and stood his ground. "Rufus wants me to help the science department come up with a new reactor, one that won't drain the planet of its life energy. Seems like a good cause to me."  
  
"Do you know if those are his real motives?" Cloud asked, trying his best to be calmer than Barret.  
  
"Doubt it, but I didn't see any reason for him to lie." He threw Vincent a quick glance. "Trust me. The moment I think something's up, I'm outta there."  
  
Cloud turned to Vincent. "What about you? What are you doing back with the ShinRa?"  
  
The vampire's face was stoic, his voice cold. "Various reasons."  
  
"Dammit!" Barret exploded. "This isn't the time to be secretive."  
  
"Barret, please." Tifa walked over to Vincent. "You're not going to tell us what the reasons are?"  
  
He glanced from face to face, starting with Yuffie and ending with Cid. "I don't think you're ready to hear them. It's best I keep them to myself for now."  
  
"You don't trust us?"  
  
"It's not that."  
  
"Then what?"  
  
"Any explanation I could give you now would only upset you more."  
  
"Vincent," Cloud snapped, "you may have played this game with Yuffie and Barret, but I'm not going to put up with it. I want an explanation. We all do."  
  
"What do you want to hear?" he hissed; if his tone were any sharper, he could have sliced the young man in two. "That I'm there so I can undermine it from the inside? So I can get in close to Rufus so I can kill him, and rid the world of his taint? Infiltrate the headquarters and reveal ShinRa's secrets to you? Well, that's not it."  
  
Cloud shook his head sadly, even as fury painted his face. "I'm really disappointed, Vincent. I would have expected better from you."  
  
"So sorry to have let you down," he came back. "I suppose I'm just not Avalanche material."  
  
Before another word could be said, the Turk left the room. Red XIII followed him out, but everyone else was too frozen with astonishment to move. Vincent had never spoken to anyone like that before - not even Hojo. It was so unlike the Vincent they knew, none of them could fully believe that they had actually heard it. Cid was the one to finally break the silence that had fallen over the room. "What the hell was that about?"*  
  
Elsewhere on the Highwind.  
  
Red XIII couldn't sleep. He couldn't stop thinking about what Vincent had told him after the fight.  
  
*"Vincent, wait!" Red XIII cried out. He ran as fast as his paws could carry him in a desperate attempt to catch up with his friend. The vampire stopped in response to the warrior dog's voice; he appeared tense, as though he was ready to snap the instant any pressure was placed on his fragile frame. "Vincent, my friend, what is wrong?"  
  
No response.  
  
"Please, tell us. Whatever it is, we will understand."  
  
"You, perhaps, and maybe even Cid, but the others couldn't possibly."  
  
"Then tell me."  
  
Vincent seemed on the verge to speak, but bit back whatever comment he had prepared.  
  
"I swear I will not speak a word to the others unless you ask me to."  
  
"Not here." He walked up the stairs to the deck of the Highwind; Red XIII followed. Outside, the stars twinkled with splendor, and fireflies danced about the airship and across the plains. "As I said, I have various reasons for being with the ShinRa, but Cloud and the others would never understand them."  
  
"What?"  
  
"At first, it was because I missed my old job. Being a Turk is part of my nature. It's in my blood. It's who I am. To deny myself that truth would be to give in to delusion as Cloud had done. I don't want that. But since I was reinstated, things have happened to only reinforce my decision to go back. You've no doubt been informed of Sephiroth's return?" It was more a statement than a question.  
  
Red XIII nodded.  
  
"He's my son."  
  
The revelation was so unexpected Red XIII completely lost his composure and went into a state of stupor. He hadn't recovered before Vincent continued.  
  
"They" - he referred to Avalanche - "will want to kill him as surely as they want to destroy ShinRa. I can't allow that. You understand that, don't you?"  
  
The canine barely managed a nod.  
  
"There's also something else. Something I'm, as yet, unsure about. There's someone I. I don't know what to do about it. I'm not even sure what to think about it." He shook his head, frustrated with himself. "This person may be the answer to my pain."  
  
Red XIII wasn't clear on what he meant by "pain." His emotional pain? The pain of his transformation? Some other medical problem he hadn't divulged to the group? But it was clear Vincent wasn't going to elaborate on the subject, as confused as he himself was on the subject. "Is that all?"  
  
"The main part of it, yes. You've sworn not tell the others. I'm holding you to that promise, Red XIII. Please, if you truly are my friend, you will keep your word, even if you think it's not what's best."  
  
"I will."*  
  
11:03 a.m. Junon Developmental Department.  
  
Cid gawked at the pile of schematics, notebooks, and paperwork on his desk. At least he hoped that was his desk under there. *Where did Henry find all this? And how did he find it so damned quickly?* The pilot attempted to find his chair, but resolved to stand. He picked a random schematic from the top of the pile - and griped to himself as the rest of it tumbled down to scatter itself around his office floor. "Ah, perfect. This is exactly how I wanted to start my day."  
  
He cleared a space on his desk and sat down. He studied the schematic in his hand, then threw it aside and reached into the remaining mess. He pulled out a white paperback; on the cover was the picture of a woman in some kind of mechanical armor. He read, "'Official Final Fantasy Anthologies Strategy Guide: Final Fantasies V and VI.' Huh? What the #^@& is this?" He tossed it to a random corner of the room and continued his rummaging.  
  
Next, he pulled a portfolio. Inside was the profile of the scientist who had created the mako reactors. Cid skimmed it, and then placed it aside for future reference. The rummaging continued.  
  
Next, he pulled another schematic. It was of a hydroelectric generator. He studied it, made notes of parts that could have been improved, and then put it aside in its own little pile for future reference. The rummaging continued.  
  
Next, he pulled a small book, entitled Unforgiven, by some author named Miotis Kain. Cid flipped the book over and read the back.  
  
*Rufus is back, and with him ShinRa begins its return to power. Avalanche has resolved to kill Rufus in the hopes of finishing off the ShinRa once and for all. But circumstances have changed; the stakes are higher and the danger's greater. When the time comes, will Avalanche be willing to pay the price for victory, or will they lose it all?*  
  
Cid opened up to the first page. *Rufus rolled up the Sunday paper and used it to smack Heideger on the head.* He flipped to the end of the book. Blank! The pages were blank! "What the hell?! Where's the ending?"  
  
*There isn't one.*  
  
"Huh? Who said that?"  
  
*I did.*  
  
"Who're you?"  
  
*I'm the author.*  
  
"The author?"  
  
*Of the story.*  
  
"Oh. So, where's the ending?"  
  
*I told you. There isn't one.*  
  
"Why not?"  
  
*Because I haven't finished the story yet.*  
  
"So where'd you leave off?"  
  
*Here.*  
  
"Huh?"  
  
*Flip to page 80.*  
  
He shuffled back through until he found the specified page. *He shuffled back through until he found the specified page.* "Wait a minute. So you're writing this even as we speak?"  
  
*Yup.  
  
"So, what am I going to do next?"  
  
*Nothing.*  
  
"Nothing?"  
  
*Yeah. Nothing.*  
  
"So, what's the point of this section?"  
  
*Filler.*  
  
"Filler?"  
  
*Yeah. I needed something to take up space between the last section and the next one. It seemed inappropriate to have such a large gap in the time sequence.*  
  
"So, I'm not really serving any purpose by being here?"  
  
*Sure you are. Just not a very important one.*  
  
"Gee, thanks." He shut the book and tossed it in the trash. It promptly flew out of the trash to hit him in the head. "Hey! You did that on purpose!" he accused.  
  
*Of course. You think I wrote that by accident?*  
  
4:49 p.m. ShinRa building in Junon.  
  
Vincent stopped to watch Scarlet walk up to Heideger and slap him upside the head. Though he couldn't hear what was being said, he knew what the argument was over: the Turks assigned to the headquarters security weren't doing their jobs, and it was Heideger's fault. Vincent laughed inwardly as he watched Heideger cowering before the slimmer, trimmer Scarlet. He allowed himself a brief smile, and then returned himself to his duties.  
  
"Hey, the Turks are your department. If they're not doing their job, it's because you aren't doing yours," Scarlet scolded.  
  
"Why are you so worked up over this?" the fat executive countered. "It doesn't have anything to do with you."  
  
She placed her hands on her hips and glared at him. "Oooooh, it does. Especially when unauthorized personnel interfere with my work. I was discussing weapons efficiency with one of the employees when some little bitch came in and started harassing him. Obviously, we never finished our discussion. I'm surprised the man was even able to go back to work. Those kinds of occurrences interfere with worker efficiency. Besides, what if it was one of those Avalanche geeks who'd gotten in? The president and ourselves could have been killed. You screwed up, Heideger, and if it happens again I'm going to President Rufus." She turned and walked away before any argument could be made.  
  
She proceeded to her office, the memory of Vincent fresh in her mind. She'd purposefully left out Vincent's name; Heideger would have used the incident as an excuse to demean the Turk. She wondered why it mattered. It frustrated her that she cared so much. Why was this one man so different from any of the others she'd stepped on to get to where she was?  
  
She got to her office, but didn't enter. She wanted answers, and there was only one way she could get them. She checked the time; the day was almost over. She turned away from her office door and went off in search of Vincent.  
  
About fifteen minutes later.  
  
Vincent watched Scarlet approach him. He maintained his professional façade, but inside he was a mess. He was hurting and alone and, above all, confused. The pain of the entire ordeal with Lucrecia had proven to be too much for him, but when he was just on the verge of an utter breakdown, Scarlet saved him with the simple gesture of offering him a handkerchief. After that, he couldn't stop thinking of her. All thoughts of her burned away the pain Lucrecia had caused him. He wondered if he was falling in love with her. With all of that going on inside him, he found it a wonder he was able to do his work at all, nevertheless effectively. "Ms. Scarlet," he greeted.  
  
"What is it?" she demanded.  
  
Vincent raised a superior eyebrow. *What do you mean?* his expression seemed to say.  
  
She set her hands on her hips - as she was prone to do - and focused on his face. "Never before has it mattered to me. I've never cared about what happened to other people or their feelings. True, I may have acted like I cared if it benefited me in the long run, but all-in-all it didn't matter to me who got crushed so long as I got what I wanted." She paused and shook a finger at him. "Then *you* come along and toss a wrench in my engine."  
  
Vincent brushed a stray lock of hair from his face, but didn't say anything.  
  
She continued. "I went to Heideger to complain about the lax in building security." - she shook her head - "and I couldn't bring myself to mention your name in what happened because I knew he would make your life hell. Anyone else, it wouldn't have mattered, but you just had to be different. So, what is it?"  
  
"What is what?"  
  
"What is it about you that makes me care about what happens to you? Why do you matter so much? I'd like to know."  
  
The previous lock fell back in front of his eyes. He made to brush it away again, but Scarlet grabbed his hand and stopped him. "Don't. Just leave it where it is."  
  
He gave her a questioning look.  
  
"It's suggestive."  
  
"How so?"  
  
"You don't even know you do it, do you? Your every move is like some silent sexual innuendo, and you don't even notice." She let out an exasperated laugh. "Now I know what it is. You don't try. Other guys work so hard to be attractive, or charming, or courteous, but it's all just natural for you. You're naturally sexy, and you don't even know it."  
  
Vincent studied her intently. The sound of her voice, the very feminine curves of her body, the ethereal beauty of her face, all inspired feelings in him; feelings similar to what he had felt for Lucrecia, and yet vastly different. These were less defined, but far more potent. He used the hand she was holding to pull her closer to him. Placing his other hand around her waist, he leaned his face toward hers.  
  
"What are you doing?" she asked, a little panicked.  
  
He gave her a crafty smile. "Something I probably shouldn't." He kissed her.  
  
Scarlet felt him pull her even closer, so that their bodies were pressed together. She was suddenly very glad he was holding her, because if he hadn't been she probably wouldn't be able to support herself. Damn, he was a great kisser!  
  
After what seemed an eternity - and yet it wasn't nearly long enough - he broke off contact, pulling away enough to see all her face. He ran his hand down her cheek, his fingers leaving streaks of fire in their wake. She felt short of breath, and her lips tingled from his touch. "Why shouldn't you do that?" she managed.  
  
"Because I'm supposed to be recovering from a broken heart."  
  
"Best way to get over the last girlfriend is to get a new one." She returned his kiss, not soft or deep, as his had been, but hard and passionate. She'd never experienced anything like it, his touch or the feelings he inspired with it. Was this what love felt like? The word was so foreign to her, and yet it seemed so right. Could this one man make up for all the disappointments of her life? She surprised herself with the hope that he could. The kiss ended.  
  
"And it doesn't bother you?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"That I'm old enough to be your father."  
  
"So long as you don't *act* like my father," she laughed.  
  
5:15 p.m. ShinRa building in Junon.  
  
Yuffie eased her way out of the ventilation shaft. She landed without a sound, and took in her surroundings; she was in a cubicle, probably on one of the office levels. That would mean she was close to Rufus's office. She peered over the edge. There were about twenty other cubicles, but she was the only person in the room.  
  
The ninja crept out of the cubicle, making her way toward the stairs. Upstairs. The president's office would be upstairs. How would she recognize him when she saw him? She'd never actually seen his face before. Oh well. She'd deal with that when the time came.  
  
She climbed slowly, cautiously. *Be prepared for anything,* she told herself. If only that was enough.  
  
Before she reached the top of the stairs, Yuffie found herself surrounded by soldiers. Five, six, seven. too many! Her mind shrank back as fear took hold of her. *It's over,* she panicked. *I can't take on this many soldiers on my own.* Of course, she never let it show. No amount of fear could overcome her bravado. She set her feet and raised her weapon. Defeat was acceptable. Surrender wasn't.  
  
"Hey," one of the soldiers chimed. "The president was right. One of those Avalanche punks got in through the ventilation."  
  
"Yeah. He even knew which floor they'd come out on," another added.  
  
Another. "That's freaky. How did he know?"  
  
"Man, I don't know, but that's why he's the president and we're not."  
  
"So what do we do with her?"  
  
"Take her in for interrogation, what else?"  
  
They moved in on her, but even as she prepared to strike, someone else acted first. From one of the upper flights of stairs, a masked figure clad in black dropped, planting its feet into the back of a soldier and driving him down. Before the remaining soldiers could recover from shock, the figure struck out with its left leg and swiped three soldiers, sending them down the stairs to plummet into their other two comrades. The remaining soldier managed to gather enough of his wits to point his gun at the new intruder, but not enough to pull the trigger before the firearm was knocked from his hands. The soldier then found himself being tattooed with a number of well-placed kicks to the face.  
  
It was now quite apparent to Yuffie that her savior was a man, as his stature and figure gave away his gender. The stranger grabbed her arm and hissed, "C'mon!" He then proceeded to pull her along with him as he made his way down the stairs.  
  
They came out of the stairwell on the ground floor. He glanced quickly to either side of the door, and then practically dragged her into the street and down an alley. They hopped a fence. On the other side was a manhole, which he deftly uncovered.  
  
"You can't be serious." Yuffie took a step away from the opening. "No way."  
  
The sounds of hurried footsteps drifted from over the fence. The stranger jabbed a finger at the hole.  
  
Again, Yuffie refused.  
  
"Listen. I'm trying to help. If you don't want the ShinRa to get you, just be quiet and follow my lead. Now, get down there."  
  
Yuffie was hesitant, but eventually complied. She let out a quiet "ewwwww" as she lowered herself into the sewer. The stranger followed her down, pausing only to replace the manhole cover. "This way." He motioned for her to follow.  
  
They sprinted down the length of the sewer, and soon came to a fork. He chose the one on the left and continued running.  
  
Yuffie did her best to keep up, but she was finding that the man had more stamina than she. It wasn't long before she had to call for him to stop. "Need. to rest," she panted. To her surprise, he waited patiently as she caught her breath. She nodded when she was ready.  
  
He took five steps, and pushed against a section of wall. There was the light scraping of stone against stone as part of the wall shifted and moved inward. He stepped through the opening. Yuffie followed.  
  
On the other side of the door, which closed itself after they were through, was a large room. It was apparently a gathering place for individuals of a more disreputable nature. The twenty-something people in the room looked toward them, and greeted her savior with hearty enthusiasm and questions galore. "JT!" "You're back!" "How'd it go?" "What happened?" "Did you find it?" "Who's that?"  
  
The man called JT waved his hands in a motion of silence, which was immediately followed by a hush. "Easy. Easy. I didn't find it. It wasn't where I thought it would be. We'll have to start checking the executives' offices. Those are the only other places it might be. However, while I didn't find the disk, I did find this." He motioned toward Yuffie.  
  
"Who is she?" a number of people shouted.  
  
"A member of Avalanche." He paused and turned to her. "Or, at least, that's what the soldiers were saying."  
  
Yuffie puffed up with pride. "My name is Yuffie, and I am a member of Avalanche."  
  
"Hey, that's great!" someone voiced.  
  
Another asked, "JT, do you think Avalanche will help us?"  
  
He waved his hand again, demanding silence.  
  
"What is it you're doing? Who are you people?" Yuffie asked.  
  
He motioned to a wooden door on the far side of the room. She went to it and walked through to enter a small room. There was a table covered with schematics and other such papers, but other than that there were no adornments.  
  
JT closed the door behind them. His cobalt blue eyes, the only part of his face not hidden by his cloak-and-dagger ensemble, met hers and held them. "We call ourselves the Reckoning. We're a group devoted to the complete downfall of the ShinRa Corporation. We're rather covert, so there are very few people who know of our existence."  
  
"Why are you fighting ShinRa?"  
  
JT shrugged. "Personal grudges, mostly. Our ranks are filled with people from various walks of life, but we've all lost something because of the ShinRa. Some are ex-cons who were put away by ShinRa. Some are people who have lost their homes or businesses. Some lost loved ones. The reasons vary."  
  
"What are *your* reasons?"  
  
He hesitated a moment. There was a nervous edge to his voice when he replied. "I was in the ShinRa army during the war with Wutai. My regiment was attacked and destroyed. Those of us left alive were severely wounded. No one came to find us. We were left for dead. In the end, I was the only one to survive. My entire regiment - my friends - all died, and no respects were paid." He turned away from her, hiding his face behind his hand. His voice cracked as he spoke, "They weren't even given a proper burial." He wiped his eyes with his sleeve before he turned back to face her. "I'm sorry," he apologized. "I -"  
  
Yuffie was quick to comfort him, having heard his story. "No, it's all right. I understand how you feel. My hometown is Wutai. After the war, it became a tourist resort. There's no pride left in it. It's ShinRa's fault. I hate them for it."  
  
"Then you understand our desire to make ShinRa pay for its crimes against the people."  
  
Yuffie nodded. "Yeah. And I want to help you."  
  
"I was hoping you'd say that." His voice was filled with warmth and gratitude.  
  
"I bet Cloud and the others will want to help, too. They hate ShinRa just as much as anyone here. I could go get them."  
  
JT moved in front of the door, blocking the way out. "No! The more people who know where this hideout is, the more likely the ShinRa is to find out about it. Then we're screwed. You can tell your friends about our group if you wish, but don't bring them here or tell them where this place is. Don't tell anyone. Please, for everyone's safety."  
  
She remained quiet, but nodded. After a moment of awkward silence, she asked, "So, exactly what is it you were looking for in the ShinRa building?"  
  
"A disk. It contains the access codes to all of ShinRa's facilities and systems. It would make our work substantially easier. With the access codes to the main computer, we could crash the entire system. Not to mention that it would make infiltrating their buildings that much easier. It would be a great asset to our cause."  
  
"I'll talk to Cloud about it and see what we can do."  
  
"Great." He turned to the door and called, "Pax!" A few seconds later, a short man with a scruffy beard and disheveled hair entered the room. JT looked at Yuffie. "This is Pax. He'll show you the way out, and he'll tell you how you can contact us."  
  
Yuffie made her way to the door, but before she walked through it JT stopped her. "Thank you. This means a lot."  
  
She beamed. "Not a problem. I'd do anything to bring down the ShinRa."  
  
He watched as Pax led Yuffie out of the room. Once the door was closed behind them, he removed his mask and ran his hand through his golden blond hair, straightening it out. He leaned against the table. *Heh,* he thought. *Never imagined I'd be using my old army alias again, but it does come in handy. This is going to be easier than I thought.* Alone in the chamber, Rufus laughed.  
  
10:17 p.m. Highwind.  
  
Yuffie rushed in to the conference room, and kicked Cloud out of the chair he'd fallen asleep in. He hit the floor with a crumpled thud, but it still didn't completely wake him up. "Huh? Wuz going' on?" he yawned.  
  
"Cloud, wake up!" With surprising strength, the young ninja yanked Cloud off the floor and jostled him. She dropped him back into his chair and slapped him. By that time he was fully awake.  
  
"Yuffie? What is it? Quit slapping me!"  
  
Yuffie froze, her hand poised to strike again. "Oh, you're awake."  
  
"Yeah, I'm awake! And I'd like to know why."  
  
"You gotta help."  
  
"Huh? Help with what?"  
  
She relayed to him what happened at the ShinRa building; she told him about the Reckoning, and about JT. Cloud's head, which had been sagging on his chest in contemplation, immediately shot up. "Did you say 'JT'?"  
  
Yuffie nodded, a little confused. "You know him?"  
  
"No, but Zack did. at least, he knew *of* him. JT was a soldier in the army during the war. He was second only to Sephiroth, and had earned the rank of Major General by sixteen. Shortly before the end of the war, his entire regiment was wiped out; some of the bodies were never recovered, but everyone was believed to be dead. Apparently, he was one of the ones who were never found." There was a long moment of silence. "So the Reckoning wants revenge. All right. We can help, but I want to meet this JT character. You can take me to him in the morning."  
  
"No!" Yuffie cried. "I can't."  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"I promised him I wouldn't tell anyone where their hideout was. He says it'll increase the danger to everyone."  
  
"Well, I need to meet with him so I know we can trust him."  
  
"I think we can."  
  
"How can you be sure? What do you *really* know about him?"  
  
"You weren't there when I met him!" she snapped. "You weren't there when he told me about what happened to him!"  
  
Cloud gave her a weird look. "What's wrong with you? You're acting really strange."  
  
"I am not!"  
  
"Yeah, you are." He sighed, and scratched his head. "Okay, Yuffie. If it means that much to you, I'll believe you when you say he's trustworthy. So what does he need us to do?" 


	5. Day 5

Day Five  
  
Sometime during the war with Wutai.  
  
*There was a sharp cry off to his right, another soldier fallen. A shot rang out, and he threw himself down an instant before bullets began to pepper the ground around him; one struck mere millimeters from his right shoulder, a cloud of dirt and dust flying up with its impact.  
  
There was a short pause in the onslaught, but those few seconds were all he needed to fire off a round of his own bullets; however, unlike the Wutai soldiers who blindly fired in the direction of their enemy, he actually picked targets. It was only a handgun, with only twelve bullets, but it was effective nonetheless.  
  
First shot missed, but the second struck the commander of the Wutai regiment in the throat. Third went straight up the barrel of an enemy rifle, exploding in the chamber - not where he had been aiming, but whatever worked. Fourth shot to a soldier's gut, more than likely fatal. Fifth missed. Sixth struck another soldier in the face. Seventh missed its intended target, but hit another beyond it. Eighth hit another soldier in the shoulder, and the ninth in his chest. Tenth landing in the shooting arm of yet another soldier. Eleventh missed, and the twelfth. misfired! The damnable bullet misfired! What a time to jam up his gun!  
  
Just as he was about to cast the now worthless weapon aside, a footfall next to him shoved the thought from his mind. He rolled away as the owner of the foot kicked, barely missing his head. He struck out with his right leg, swiping the Wutai soldier's legs out from beneath him; the soldier fell forward. Simultaneously, he dropped the gun and pulled out a booey knife. Yanking the soldier's head back by the hair, he slit the man's throat.  
  
"General!" It was one of his soldiers. "We're being overwhelmed! What do we do?"  
  
A quick glance over the battlefield gave him all the details he needed: twenty of his soldiers, seventy of theirs. But his were all First Class Soldiers, and from the way the Wutai regiment was fighting, it was apparent that they were all draftees without any true battle experience, nevertheless expertise. "We hold!" he shouted. "There's nowhere to run to."  
  
"But, sir."  
  
"If we fall back, they'll be given too great an opening to attack the main army. We have to hold! Lieutenant Leo!"  
  
A burly soldier with a crew cut ran up next to him. "You're orders, sir?"  
  
He pointed to a cluster of approximately twenty Wutai soldiers, a perfect opportunity to severely diminish their numbers. "Send our buddies a little present."  
  
"Yes, sir!" Leo hoisted a grenade launcher to his shoulder, aimed, and fired. The grenade hit its mark, and exploded upon impact. The group was thrown outward, the ones closest to the impact dying instantly while those toward the edges of the group were given fatal wounds.  
  
He retrieved an automatic rifle from another one of his soldiers and loaded it. Fifty rounds were all he had, but it'd do well enough. He scanned the battlefield again, and spotted line of soldiers. Wutai was making it all too easy for them. Lieutenant Leo picked up his own rifle, and together they mowed down the opposing line. What did that leave? About forty Wutai soldiers?  
  
"Sir! They're still advancing!"  
  
"So let's make them think twice about it. Load up!" The ShinRa soldiers did as they were bid, and loaded their weapons. "All right, spread out! Don't give them a larger target to shoot at. Two lines. First line, on my mark.. Fire!"  
  
Bullets sailed across the battlefield to meet the Wutai army. Cries resounded as soldiers were struck down by the flying lead. "First line, reload. Second line, fire!" In perfect unison the ShinRa soldiers carried out their orders, and diminished the numbers of the Wutai army to a mere fifteen. Not exactly a fair fight, but this was war, after all.  
  
The return fire came before the second line had finished its barrage. Some of the soldiers were quick enough to hit the dirt before they were shot down, but not enough of them. Seven died as Wutai's bullets pierced their bodies. He felt a spray of blood and bone across his face as a bullet passed through Leo's head. "Perfect! Just perfect!" he shouted. He glanced over the ranks of his soldiers; there were only thirteen now, including him.  
  
The firing stopped, and for a brief moment the battlefield was silent. Then the silence was broken as the remaining Wutai soldiers raced across the open ground, screaming their battle cry. The ShinRa soldiers met them head on, and the battle continued.  
  
He brought the butt of his gun up to the face of a soldier rushing him; there was a crack of bone and a spurt of blood as the man's nose was shoved up into his brain. He dropped the rifle and pulled his remaining pistol. He planted two bullets into the ribcage of a Wutai soldier who was gaining an advantage over one of his own. He fired another shot into the gut of another soldier. From the corner of his eye, he saw a Wutai soldier running up to him, which he promptly shot and killed.  
  
Suddenly, there was a sharp pain in his left side; a woman from the Wutai army had impaled him on the blade of an oversized shiruken. Without even thinking, he turned the gun on the woman who had skewered him, and emptied the rest of the bullets into her chest. He felt the weapon wrenched from his body as the woman fell away from him. Hot blood gushed down his side, plastering his uniform to his skin.  
  
"General!"  
  
He barely heard the cry. He felt light-headed, queasy, tired, but no pain. How odd. He wondered if she'd severed his spine. The gun fell from his hand, and he dropped to his knees. No. He felt it when his knees hit the ground, sending a fresh wave of pain to course its way up his legs.  
  
He looked at the woman that had killed him. She looked so familiar. Ah, yes. Now he remembered. This was Sonja Kisarigi, Godo's wife. At least they were even. She killed him; he killed her. It was a fair trade.  
  
He slumped the rest of the way to the ground. Just before he blacked out, just before he faded into that vast oblivion, he thought,* On the bright side, I'll never have to deal with that fat bastard I call a father again. *Darkness overcame him.  
  
He opened his eyes and blinked. What happened? He lay still for some time, taking in and assessing his surroundings. He was lying in a bed, covered up to his chest with sheets. There was a single window in the room, light filtering through faded curtains. Opposite the window was a closed door. Other than the bed, the only other furnishing to the space was a single chair; draped over it was his uniform - or the remnants of it.  
  
He attempted to sit up, but pain racked his body and forced him to lie back down. His hand went instinctively to his side, where the wound was. Beneath the cloth he could feel bandages. There was a section of the wrappings that felt moist; he assumed he was bleeding through. He brought his hand up to his face and, sure enough, there were feint crimson stains on his fingers.  
  
He made a second attempt to sit up, this time more slowly. He winced against the pain, and managed to push himself into a position where the headboard would support him. He examined his bandages more closely - an amateur's handiwork, but it did its job effectively enough. Some of his more minor wounds had healed and scarred, indicating just how long he had been unconscious.  
  
He heard a light click from the doorknob, and hurried to cover himself with the sheets before the door opened. A young woman no older than him walked into the room carrying fresh bandages, which she dropped when she saw him. "Oh!" she exclaimed happily. "You're awake. We were beginning to think you would never come around." She gathered up the bandages and placed them on the chair with his clothes, never once letting her eyes divert from his face. "Let me get Father."  
  
He let her leave, happy to have her gone; he didn't like the way she looked at him. Besides, if she wasn't in the room, that meant she wasn't with him trying to change his bandages or do who knows what else.  
  
It wasn't long before she returned - he did his best to hide his disappointment - with a tall, rotund man in tow. The man's face was nearly completely hidden by his bushy red beard and eyebrows, but his eyes were kind. He walked over to the bed and laughed, "So you are awake. Good! Good!" He turned to the girl. "Raysa, go tell your mother to bring in some soup, while I tell our young friend what's happened. I'm sure he's confused."  
  
"Yes, Father." She skipped off to do as she was told.  
  
"My name is Heinen," the man introduced himself. He waited, and when it was apparent no response was forthcoming, he asked, "And you are?"  
  
"JT," was the blunt reply.  
  
"Well, JT, it's nice to finally know your name. We were beginning to think you weren't going to make it."  
  
"Exactly how long have I been here?" There was no gentleness or curiosity to his voice; it was more of a demand, than anything. "And how did I get here?"  
  
"Well," Heinen replied with the utmost courtesy, "you've been here for three months now. My son, Crynn, found you outside Wutai on the battlefield. You were the only person still alive." He became sad. "Poor Lady Sonja. Her little girl will be heartbroken."  
  
JT decided not to tell him he was the one that killed Lady Sonja. It would be better for them and him. "I've been here three months."  
  
Heinen nodded.  
  
"My entire regiment is dead."  
  
Again, Heinen nodded.  
  
JT sighed. He closed his eyes, and leaned his head against the headboard.  
  
"I'm sorry. This meaningless war has taken the lives of a lot of good men and women. It's all such a waste." He turned to the sound of the opening door, and welcomed his wife with a smile. "Mari, meet young JT. JT this is my wife, Mari."  
  
"Hello, JT." Her voice was quiet. "It's good to see you're awake. We were beginning to worry."  
  
He didn't bother to open his eyes or otherwise return her greeting.  
  
Three months! He was the only one left. He was sure the wound was fatal. Ah, but there was the rub. The wound would have been fatal had it not been tended to. The boy must have found him immediately after the battle had ended. Contacting the army would be out of the question; they probably thought he was dead, and the messenger would have to be from Wutai, meaning he'd be killed before he delivered the message. He couldn't go to a Wutai hospital, because they would most likely send him to prison instead. That meant he was stuck with the Swiss Family Robinson. Perfect. He almost wished he had died.  
  
A year and a half. A year and a half he'd spent with that small, secluded family. It was a nightmare. He wasn't able to leave the bed for another four months, and even then they refused to let him do anything by himself. He had no privacy whatsoever, and they wondered why he was always so cranky.  
  
And the girl! The girl, Raysa, made everything ten times worse. She insisted on being around him twenty-four hours a day. She wanted to help him with everything - EVERYTHING! At the beginning he had tried to be polite, but over the course of the first week he simply became bitter and reclusive. He didn't know how much more he could stand. He knew very well why she followed him around - she was in love with him - but he couldn't understand why she felt the way she did. She knew nothing about him. The entire time he was there, he'd never said more than ten words to her. Perhaps she was one of those sick people that liked to be abused and neglected.  
  
Her brother was a pain as well. Crynn constantly asked him questions - which he never answered - and imitated anything he did, even if he was simply sitting and staring out a window. It was one of the most annoying experiences of his young life.  
  
The father insisted on trying to make conversation, and his overly friendliness grated JT's nerves. How could any one person like everything so much, and be so damned happy all the time?  
  
The mother, however, was descent enough company. She didn't keep his company nearly as much as the rest of her family, but when she did he actually enjoyed her presence. She didn't insist on talking if he didn't want to talk. She didn't stare at him like either of her children. And, above all, she didn't smile like an idiot twenty-four-seven. It was rather refreshing. She seemed to understand how little patience he had for everyone's pampering, and if it hadn't been for her, he would never have had any time to himself at all. Hell! If it hadn't been for her, Raysa probably would have insisted on sleeping in the same bed with him When it came time for him to go, he realized how much he would miss Mari - but he was still exuberantly happy to leave. Despite his fondness for Mari, he decided he never wanted to see any of them again.*  
  
5:49 a.m. Rufus's home in Junon.  
  
Rufus woke to a searing pain in his side. His hand went instinctively to that old wound; he felt the scar that was a constant reminder of that year and a half of hell. He hated that dream. He hated the pain it brought back. He hated remembering that part of his past. But most of all, he hated remembering *her*, that intolerable girl that had made his life so miserable when he had been there.  
  
The young president sat up, wincing as his flesh screamed in protest. He attempted to stand, but pain racked his body, forcing him to his knees; he dropped to the floor with an audible thud, one arm supporting him and the other clutching his aching side. He found it hard to breathe, his breaths coming in short shallow gasps. A new wave of pain enveloped him, and he almost cried out against it.  
  
He didn't notice the sound of hurried footsteps coming down the hall, or hear his room door open; he barely felt the soft, warm hands on his shoulders. But he knew who it was, who it always was whenever his body went into these spasms. Rita. She was his nursemaid when he was a child, and had stayed with him while he was in the army. She was the one that had sent false reports to his parents, telling them he was in school and doing fine. She had even been waiting for him when he finally returned from Wutai. In truth, she was more of a mother to him than his biological mother could ever hope to be. If not for Rita, he wouldn't even know what if felt like to have someone care about him.  
  
Rufus sensed more than heard Rita's gentle voice making soothing sounds, calming his nerves and easing his pain. Her presence alone could have done it, but she always did make sure to give him too much of a good thing. Sometimes Rufus thought she didn't even realize how much she spoiled him. Ah, but he also knew she wouldn't have thought of it as spoiling, but instead as maternal devotion. So why didn't his biological mother ever do things the way Rita did? It's not as though she was busy. No, it couldn't be maternal devotion. Either that, or his mother just didn't care; it wouldn't have surprised him. He was pretty sure it was the latter.  
  
Rita helped him to his feet, and back over to the bed. "Rufus, I'm worried about you. All this overtime you've been putting in and this whole expedition to take Wutai, it's putting too much stress on you. And you've been having that dream more than ever. At this rate you'll have a breakdown by the end of the week."  
  
"No, I won't," he wheezed, the pain still constricting his lungs. "I don't have time for a breakdown. I'll finish everything, and *then* I'll have a breakdown."  
  
"You need to relax. This isn't good for your health."  
  
"I'm fine."  
  
"Sweeting, please, don't do this to yourself. Promise me you'll let up."  
  
Rufus remained silent.  
  
"Promise me," she demanded.  
  
He nodded stiffly. "All right. I promise."  
  
9:00 a.m. Rufus's office in Junon.  
  
The speaker buzzed. "Mr. President," Cara's voice said, "there's a young woman by the name of Aeris Gainsborough here. She wishes to speak with you."  
  
"I'm busy," he replied, unconcerned.  
  
There was a pause on the other end, and then Cara's voice returned. "Sir, she says it's urgent."  
  
"Fine. Send her in." He continued to shuffle through the paperwork on his desk - which was now somewhat assorted - even after she entered. "Make it quick," he ordered.  
  
"Why are you treating Sephiroth like this?" she asked, her voice pleading.  
  
"Treat him like what?" He scribbled the elegant swirls of his signature onto a form and set it aside.  
  
"Like a stranger. Like he's just another name on your payroll."  
  
"Because he is." He finished scanning another form, crumpled it up, and threw it over his shoulder into a trashcan behind him.  
  
"You may have duped everyone else, but you're not fooling me."  
  
He looked up at her then. Her eyes were filled with unaccustomed pain and anger. He wove his fingers, leaned forward in his seat, and rested his arms on his desk. "I have no idea what you're talking about. You'll have to elaborate."  
  
"Does the name 'JT' ring any bells?"  
  
The corner of Rufus's mouth twitched - a smile? "Let me guess. The planet told you." She nodded, and Rufus exploded into laughter.  
  
Aeris became offended, her anger rising. "What's so funny?"  
  
Somehow, between the hasty breaths and spouts of laughter, Aeris managed to make out the words, "You actually think JT's relationships matter to me?" He began to laugh harder.  
  
"How can you find this funny? How can you be so cold? Isn't there anyone or anything other than yourself you love?"  
  
His laughter died. "None that I can think of." He didn't count his surrogate mother-son relationship with Rita. As far as he was concerned, that was necessary to his very survival; love was expendable. His voice became deathly serious. "Relationships take work to keep together, meaning they take time. As such, love should be left for those who have time for it. As it is, I barely have time to get a descent night's sleep. Sometimes I don't. I don't have the time to spend coddling people's emotions. I have more important things to do."  
  
"So you're saying that Sephiroth never meant anything to you?"  
  
He laughed again, an evilly mocking sound. "Sephiroth was just another tool. I played the part long enough to get what I wanted out of him. I used him, nothing more."  
  
Aeris stood in utter shock.  
  
"You can tell him I said that if you want." His lips curled into a cruel smile. "I'm sure his reaction will surprise you."  
  
12:33 p.m. Junon harbor.  
  
Aeris sat at the end of an empty dock and cried. What was she going to do? If she told Sephiroth the truth about JT it would crush him, and the last thing she wanted to do was hurt that fragile soul. But the longer the lie went unrevealed, the more it would hurt him when he did find out the truth.  
  
She wiped away her tears, but they were quickly replaced. Damn Rufus! How could anyone be so cruel? She didn't think anyone could truly have a heart of ice, but now she doubted if the president even had a heart.  
  
She heard footsteps behind her. Turning around to see who it was, she found Cloud. He was looking at her with an expression of astonishment mixed with elation and love. It broke her heart knowing she would have to break his - especially when she told him for whom she was doing it. Her crying increased tenfold. "Oh, Cloud," she sobbed.  
  
Cloud knelt on the dock next to her and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer to him. "Aeris, you're alive! What's wrong? Why are you crying?"  
  
"I'm *sob* so *sob* sorry."  
  
"Sorry? About what?"  
  
Her crying increased even more.  
  
"Aw, Aeris, don't cry. What's wrong? Tell me."  
  
"S- *sob* S- *sniff* Seph- *sob, sniff* -iroth."  
  
"I know. He's alive, but that's not your fault. You did the best you could. We'll just have to go after him again."  
  
She pulled away from him, still crying but now more frightened than distraught. She shook her head frantically.  
  
"Aeris, don't worry. We won't let him hurt you again."  
  
"No. *sniff* It's not that." She took a deep, shaky breath to try and calm herself. "Cloud, please. Don't go after Sephiroth."  
  
He became confused. "What? Why?"  
  
"Because. because." She couldn't tell him.  
  
"Because what?"  
  
She stared at him for the longest time. She had to tell him now, or hurt him more latter. And now she knew what to do about telling Sephiroth about JT. "Because I love him," she squeaked.  
  
Cloud reeled visibly. He lost his balance and landed on his butt. "You. You love him? You *love* him? But-but-but. how?! Aeris, he killed you! He tried to destroy the world! He's allied with ShinRa! He's evil! How can you possibly *love* him?!"  
  
"Because I understand what he's been through. I know what he's feeling. And he's not evil." *Rufus on the other hand.* she thought bitterly. "Cloud, I don't expect you or the others to understand, and I don't expect you to accept it. But this is how I feel. I love Sephiroth. And he loves me."  
  
Cloud dropped his jaw. "What?" He grabbed Aeris by the shoulders and shook her. "What are you saying? What could possibly give you the idea that he loves you? This is Sephiroth we're talking about. He doesn't love you. If he told you that then he's just playing with your head to get at me."  
  
Aeris didn't even think about it, she just reached up and slapped him. "Not everything revolves around you, Cloud. Just because you don't believe it doesn't mean it can't happen. You have no right to judge his emotions! I'm sorry, Cloud. I love him, and I won't leave him. Not even for you." She got up and ran off, her crying renewed. Cloud remained on the dock, wondering what he'd done to lose her.  
  
7:13 p.m. Junon beach.  
  
Sephiroth found Aeris sitting in the sand, watching the sunset. She hadn't told him where she would be. He just knew. Just like he knew that she was upset, and that it involved him though it wasn't his fault. Weird.  
  
He walked up to her, ever silent. But just like he knew where she was, he knew she knew he was there. He sat down beside her; she stiffened, but otherwise didn't acknowledge his presence. He place an arm around her shoulders, gave her a gentle squeeze. It was then she threw herself completely into his arms. She sobbed into his chest her entire encounter with Cloud.  
  
Sephiroth felt his anger rise. How dare that spiky-haired moron treat her like that! As if he knew anything about what they felt for each other! As if he could ever comprehend what they shared!  
  
He must have started to stand, because he felt Aeris tug on his coat. "Please, don't," she begged. "Just leave him alone. Whatever he does, it won't change anything. He can't come between us. Please, let him be."  
  
His blood was boiling. He wanted to break every bone in Cloud's body and toss him into a pit of angry, rabid chocobos. He wanted to make him suffer for causing her so much distress. But one look into her eyes was enough to convince him not to. Oh, he was still angry. Outraged even. But he wasn't about to do anything to make Aeris feel worse. So he sat back down and pulled her to him, burying his face in her hair.  
  
"Sephiroth?"  
  
"Hmm?"  
  
"There's something I need to talk to you about." She pulled away to look at him. "It's about JT."  
  
Sephiroth waited in silence.  
  
When she had gathered enough courage, she confessed, "Rufus is JT."  
  
What Sephiroth said next completely shocked her. "Oh, I know," he replied almost enthusiastically.  
  
She shook her head. "You know?"  
  
Sephiroth smiled, sensing his girlfriend's confusion. He wasn't trying to belittle her; he just thought it was amusing. "Well, I didn't know back then" - he referred back to the war - "but I knew when I saw Rufus on the transport ship to Costa del Sol four months ago. Once you've seen his face, there's no mistaking him."  
  
"But that's not all. He was your best friend during the war, but I talked with him this morning and he said it was nothing."  
  
The soldier nodded. "Yeah, that sounds like Rufus."  
  
"It doesn't bother you?"  
  
"No. Had it been anyone else I might have been at least annoyed, but you should expect that kind of stuff from Rufus. He's not the caring type. It's just the way he is. He's a cold, self-centered bastard, but that's why he does his job so well."  
  
"How do you figure?"  
  
"The only thing he's concerned with is furthering his own interests. However, unlike his father - who was an utter idiot - Rufus knows that the best way to further his interests is to further those of others. So he does what's best for the people, which helps the company, which in turn benefits him. It's a cycle of egocentrism that has happy little perks for everyone else."  
  
"So you don't mind that he used you?"  
  
Sephiroth shrugged. "Story of my life. At least he didn't gain from any expense on my part, which is more than I can say for most cases." 


	6. Day 6

Day Six  
  
7:03 a.m. Highwind.  
  
Yuffie entered the conference room to find everyone trying to console a disheveled Cloud. His eyes were bloodshot, his complexion pale, and his hands trembled. She stayed at the door; he looked so fragile that any movement might shatter him. After long moments of tensely awkward silence, Red XIII padded over to her. He nudged her out the door into the Highwind's main bay. Only after the doors had closed and they had walked away from them did Yuffie dare to ask, "What happened?"  
  
Red XIII shook his head sadly. "Cloud saw Aeris."  
  
"Saw her as in he's losing it, or saw her as in he saw some planet induced hallucination again?"  
  
"No. He saw her, talked to her, and held her. Aeris is alive."  
  
"And that makes everyone sad?"  
  
"When Cloud spoke with her, she said she knew that Sephiroth was alive and that she didn't want us to kill him. because she's in love with him."  
  
"Aeris?"  
  
Red nodded.  
  
"In love with Sephiroth?"  
  
Red nodded.  
  
"How's that possible?"  
  
"I don't know. Cloud didn't tell us everything." Neither of them spoke for a moment, and then Red XIII decided to change the subject. "You spoke with JT?"  
  
Yuffie shook her head. "He wasn't there, but I talked with Pax. JT left directions with him to give to me to pass on to Cloud - who's now catatonic."  
  
"What did he say?"  
  
"JT and a small group of the Reckoning will make a diversion to distract ShinRa security, while we slip in through the emergency doors on the west side of the building. They've narrowed the location of the disk to the fourth floor. We'll only have fifteen minutes max to get in and out of the building with the disk. Once we've got it, we should probably hide out for a while. They'll take the disk and debug it so it's not traceable. After that, it should be clear sailing."  
  
Red XIII looked contemplative. He reviewed what Yuffie had relayed to him. "What will the diversion be?"  
  
She shrugged. "He said we'd know when it happened."  
  
"When does it start?"  
  
"Tomorrow at 9:00 p.m."  
  
"We won't want a large group, and I don't think Cloud's in the condition to go. I'll talk to Tifa about it." He padded back to the conference room, and out of site.  
  
*They better take me along,* Yuffie thought. *I want to do this for JT and for Wutai.*  
  
11:10 a.m. Rufus's office in Junon.  
  
The phone rang. Rufus raised a curious eyebrow; all calls were to go through Cara before they got to him, and she hadn't informed him of any calls. He stopped his work and watched the device, as though an explanation would present itself to him if he stared at it long enough.  
  
After six rings he answered it. Before he could get a word out, the person on the other end began to chant, "They're coming to take me away. he he They're coming to take me away, off to the funny farm, where things are wonderful all the time. I'm looking forward to seeing those nice men in those clean white suits. They're coming to take me away." Another voice interrupted, and the sounds of a struggle could be heard. The first voice - though more distant - could still be heard screaming the same lines over and over. The second voice returned. "Hello? Is anyone there?" it asked.  
  
"Yes," answered Rufus. "Who's this?"  
  
"Mr. President?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Oh my gosh! Mr. President I'm so so so so so sorry. That wasn't supposed to happen. I don't know how he got out. I'm terribly sorry you were disturbed. I."  
  
"Hold on! Calm down." He waited until the breathing of the person on the other end returned to normal. "Now, who is this?"  
  
"Corporal Edward," came the shaky reply.  
  
"All right, Corporal. Where are you stationed?"  
  
"At the jail."  
  
"Okay. Tell me what happened."  
  
"Well, sir. One of the prisoners weaseled his way out of his cell and got to a phone."  
  
"Who's the prisoner?"  
  
"Um. that ex-executive Reeves. He's gone a little nuts since he got here."  
  
Rufus nodded slowly, though he was well aware that Corporal Edward couldn't see him. "I see. He's back in his cell now?"  
  
"Yes, sir."  
  
"Good. Well done."  
  
"I'm not in trouble?"  
  
"No, but keep an eye on him. He might get loose again."  
  
"Yes, sir." The soldier sounded relieved.  
  
"Keep up the good work." Rufus hung up the phone and leaned back in his chair, a satisfied smile on his face. That soldier was terrified of him. He liked that thought. *I love my job.*  
  
2:12 p.m. Soldier barracks in Junon.  
  
Sephiroth opened the door, stepped through, and had a bucket of water drop on his head. "Huh? What the hell? Who put that there?" He shook the water from his arms and wrung out his hair.  
  
*I did.*  
  
"Who're you?"  
  
*I'm the author.*  
  
"Oh. Cid told me about you. Decided to pick on me, huh?"  
  
*Yeah, but don't worry. The bucket is all I'm going to do to you. I figure the rest of the story is torture enough. I've got something much worse planned for Vincent.*  
  
"Hmph. I don't know whether to feel lucky or cursed."  
  
* I can make it worse.*  
  
"That's okay. You don't have to. I'll settle for what you've done."  
  
*Oh, so you aren't going to talk back like Cid? Smart boy.*  
  
"I try."  
  
4:49 p.m. ShinRa building in Junon.  
  
Scarlet stepped out of the elevator and froze. Her eyes narrowed as they caught sight of the figure walking through the building entrance. It was that woman. The one Vincent had fought with the other day. What was her name? Lucrecia? Yes, that was it. What was she doing here? *Probably come to beg Vinny's forgiveness. Pathetic.* She watched as a guard stopped the woman and questioned her for ID, and continued to watch as Lucrecia's manner became more and more upset when he wouldn't let her pass.  
  
With a smug smile on her lips, Scarlet approached the scene. "Is there something wrong, here?" she asked coolly.  
  
The soldier was startled for a moment, but quickly regained his composure. "Miss Scarlet, this civilian insists on getting in to speak with one of the Turks. I've told her he isn't here right now, but she won't listen to me. She says she'll wait, and refuses to leave."  
  
"It's all right. Go back to your duties. I'll handle this," she told him. She turned to Lucrecia. "You're here to see Vincent Valentine, correct?"  
  
Lucrecia nodded.  
  
"Well then, come with me."  
  
The former ShinRa scientist followed Scarlet to the elevator; she waited quietly as it took them to the fourth floor. Scarlet then led Lucrecia down a long hallway. She stopped at the third to last door in the hall, opened it, and stepped into the room. Lucrecia followed suit, and heard the door shut behind her. She gazed around her. The room was a rather extravagantly furnished office, decorated with rich oak furniture in red velvet trimming with carpet and curtains to match. She saw no one else in the office. "Where's Vincent?" she asked timidly.  
  
Scarlet walked to her desk and sat on its edge. "The guard downstairs told you already. He isn't here right now. I brought you here because I wanted to have a word with you."  
  
"About what?"  
  
"About Vincent, obviously. You came here to ask him to forgive you, correct?"  
  
Lucrecia nodded. "I know we can rekindle our love. He can't possibly hate me as much as he let on when we last spoke."  
  
"Actually, he hates you as much as he loves you, and that's why he can't stand to be with you. If you truly care about him, you'll leave him alone."  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
Scarlet felt her face flush with anger. *What's wrong with this twit? Why can't she understand she's not wanted around here?* She lightly touched a hand to her temple, as if attempting to wish away a headache. "Allow me to explain. Vincent loves you. You dumped him for some psycho loser, and allowed his son to be used for experiments. Not to mention, you lied to him and told him his son was Hojo's. You betrayed his love and his trust. You hurt him in the worst possible way. He doesn't want to go through that again. That's why he doesn't want you anymore."  
  
"But I won't do that to him again. If I'd known it would cause him so much grief, I would never."  
  
Scarlet cut her off. "Oh, give me a break! How could you possibly think anything like that *couldn't* hurt him? There's no way it couldn't hurt him! What kind of idiot are you?"  
  
Lucrecia stepped back, more than a little frightened and confused at Scarlet's disposition.  
  
The executive stood and set her hands on her hips. She glared at the other woman. "All right. You listen very carefully to me. Just stay away from Vincent. You had your chance, and you blew it. You've caused him enough misery as it is. Just walk out of his life, like he told you to."  
  
"But I know he'll forgive me if I can just prove to him that I still love him," she pleaded.  
  
"Ha! Do you honestly think I'll let you pester him like that? Do you think I'm going to give you the chance to take him away from me?"  
  
"Take him away from you? Are you saying that Vincent is seeing you?!" Lucrecia shook her head with defiance. "Vincent would never date a floozy like you! He wouldn't leave me for you! You're lying!"  
  
Scarlet walked over, and slapped Lucrecia across the face hard enough to send the assistant scientist to the floor. "Get real, #@%^$. After what you did, do you honestly think he's not going to cast off a dreg like you when he can have me? Vinny's mine, and I'm definitely not going to lose him to a trollop like you."  
  
Lucrecia picked herself off the ground, and returned Scarlet's slap. "How dare you?! How dare you speak to me that way?! How dare you presume to know anything about what happened between me and Vincent?!"  
  
Scarlet slapped Lucrecia again. "He told me."  
  
Lucrecia slapped Scarlet again. "Why would Vincent tell you anything?"  
  
Scarlet slapped Lucrecia again. "Because he trusts me with his feelings. He knows I'm not going to walk all over them like you did."  
  
Lucrecia slapped Scarlet yet again, which Scarlet immediately returned. And so it continued. There was a knock on the door, but the two were so caught up in their catfight that neither one noticed. After a moment, it opened and Vincent peeked around to check inside. "Scarlet, a guard downstairs said there wa-Good gracious!" He flung the door open, rushing over to where the fight had escalated into a brawl. In his attempt to pry the two enraged women away from each other's throats, he received a slap to the face that had been intended for Scarlet; a feint crimson line formed along his cheek, collecting into a drop which broke free and ran down to his chin.  
  
Lucrecia gasped. "Vincent, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to hit you." She reached up to wipe away the blood, but was shoved away by the female executive.  
  
"Back off! You've done enough damage."  
  
"What are you talking about? This entire fight was your fault."  
  
"Mine? You started the trouble by coming here to bug Vincent."  
  
"I-"  
  
"That's enough!" Vincent snapped. He pulled Scarlet away from Lucrecia. By that time, a crowd had gathered outside Scarlet's office; a couple of guards pushed their way through to enter the room. Vincent shot them a look that told them to stay where they were. They obediently complied. "What is this all about? Lucrecia, what are you doing here?"  
  
"I came to see you. I wanted to speak with you again, to try and explain."  
  
"No explanation is going to help. Nothing is going to fix the damage that's been done. That's why I told you to leave me alone, Lucrecia."  
  
"But."  
  
"No, Lucrecia. I'm sorry, but there isn't going to be reconciliation between us. I don't want to chance that kind of heartache again. If you ever truly loved me as you claim you do, then you'll leave me be. There's too much pain in the past. Let me start my life over so that I may achieve my own happiness." He turned to the guards, who still waited by the door. "Please escort her out of the building."  
  
"Yes, sir!" They flanked the scientist, and, with some persuasion, led her from the building.  
  
Vincent then addressed the crowd. "There's nothing more to see here. Get back to work, all of you." He shut the door, not waiting for the employees to disperse. Instead, he sat Scarlet in a chair and went to her adjoining private bathroom. He came back out with a warm wet washcloth, which he then used to carefully clean the scratches on her arms. He inspected her face; her one cheek was bruised and slightly swollen. He recalled Lucrecia's slightly more disheveled condition, and chuckled. "I had no idea you could be so vicious."  
  
"I wasn't about to let her try and steal my boyfriend. No one takes something that belongs to me."  
  
"'Belongs?' I see. So that fight was about who got to keep me?"  
  
She took the washcloth from him, and wiped the blood from his cheek. "Exactly. It would seem I won." She smiled, but stopped when the pain in her cheek flared.  
  
Vincent chuckled again. "So it would seem." 


	7. Day 7

Day Seven  
  
11:45 a.m. Junon.  
  
Vincent walked down the street, which was surprisingly empty; they were usually bustling at this time of day. Actually, he found it rather refreshing not to have to fight the crowds, but all the same, he paid no more attention to it than that.  
  
He continued walking and rounded a corner; as he did, he ran into two young men. One was wearing gleaming white armor, and had silver and magenta hair. The other looked disturbingly similar to Rufus, except he wore black dragon armor and had longer hair. "Pardon us," apologized the first. "How clumsy of us."  
  
"It's quite all right," Vincent assured them, silently wondering if the two were escapees from an insane asylum. "It was completely my fault."  
  
"Allow me to introduce us. I'm Cecil" - he took a deep bow, a gesture of a bygone age - "and this is my friend, Kain" - he gestured to the other man, who simply nodded his head once.  
  
Vincent introduced himself bluntly, but without being rude.  
  
"Perhaps you could help us. We were looking for a man in long dark robes. He looked like me, except he has gold and magenta hair. He was carrying five crystals. Have you seen him?" Cecil waited expectantly.  
  
Vincent shook his head.  
  
"Then perhaps you've seen our other companions?" Kain added. He even sounded like Rufus. Weird. Very weird. "A woman in white robes with dishwater blond hair?"  
  
Vincent shook his head.  
  
"A young woman with green hair and eyes?" asked Cecil.  
  
Vincent shook his head.  
  
"A man in his thirties wearing a martial arts uniform and bald, except for a single black ponytail?"  
  
Vincent shook his head.  
  
"A middle-aged bearded man wearing goggles and a tool belt?"  
  
Vincent shook his head.  
  
"An flamboyantly dressed blond minstrel?"  
  
Vincent shook his head.  
  
"Young twins, one boy and one girl?"  
  
Vincent shook his head.  
  
" A smart mouthed ninja?"  
  
At this Vincent paused.  
  
"You've seen him?" asked Kain.  
  
"*Him*? Well in that case, no. I haven't. I'm sorry, but you're the only ones I've seen on this street."  
  
"Oh. That is unfortunate."  
  
"If I may ask, where are you from? I can't seem to place your accent. or your wardrobe."  
  
"Certainly. We're from the kingdom of Baron," Cecil answered.  
  
Vincent gave him a puzzled look. "Baron," he repeated.  
  
Cecil nodded.  
  
"I think you're in the wrong game," the Turk voiced.  
  
"What? This isn't Final Fantasy IV?" Kain questioned.  
  
"Right series, wrong game. This is Final Fantasy VII."  
  
"Oh my," Cecil breathed. He reached into his pack and pulled out a walk- through to Final Fantasy IV. "I wondered why things looked so unfamiliar. I was beginning to think I had the wrong guide." After flipping through some pages, he put it away. "Well, we thank you for your help, Vincent. If you'll excuse us, we must be off to find our own game."  
  
Vincent watched them run off and disappear around a corner. Before he could be on his own way, there were footsteps behind him. "Excuse us," a man's voice said.  
  
The vampire turned to face the owner. He saw a man with long white hair wearing an extravagant trench coat. Next to him was another man, dressed entirely in black so that nothing but his eyes showed; following him was a very large, very mean looking dog.  
  
"Yes? How can I help you?" Vincent offered.  
  
"My name is Setzer, and this is my companion, Shadow. We're looking for someone."  
  
"A man in long black robes with gold and magenta hair?"  
  
Setzer smiled pleasantly. "Um, no. Actually, we are looking for a woman. She was glowing bright pink and probably flying. She's a friend of ours," he added.  
  
Vincent shook his head, inwardly complaining about how his neck was beginning to hurt. "No, I haven't seen anyone like that. Sorry."  
  
"It's all right," Setzer replied, cheerily. "But we thank you for your time."  
  
Before they left, Vincent mentioned, "I think you may be in the wrong game. The last people I met were, too."  
  
"Really? What game is this?"  
  
"Final Fantasy VII."  
  
Setzer laughed. "Well, that would explain why we can't find anything. We're supposed to be in Final Fantasy VI. We're a game off." He shrugged. "I suppose we should find our way back to our own game. Thank you for your assistance."  
  
The Turk nodded, and the two men ran off out of sight; the dog lingered, but a voice - which Vincent assumed belonged to the other man, Shadow - shouted, "Interceptor! Come!" The canine immediately ran toward the source of the call, leaving Vincent in the street alone.  
  
From a side alley, a man with gold and magenta hair, and dressed in dark robes walked into the street. He looked toward Vincent, who wasted no time in reacting. "Wrong game. This is Final Fantasy VII. You want Final Fantasy IV." He jerked a thumb toward where he'd last seen Cecil and Kain. "Two others from your game went that way."  
  
"Was it a man in paladin's armor and another in dragon armor?" he questioned.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Then I'll go this way," he said, and ran opposite of the indicated direction.  
  
Vincent didn't move; he simply crossed his arms and waited. Sure enough, someone else sauntered by. This time it was three young people. One was dressed in black, and carried a weapon that looked like a cross between a gun and a sword. Next to him was a woman with a whip. After her was a man in a tan leather trench coat, tan chaps, and a dark brown dungaree.  
  
The first man turned to the second. "Irvine, you said this was the way."  
  
The one called Irvine pulled a walkthrough out of his coat pocket and shrugged as he opened it up. He spoke with a southern drawl. "It is. Well, it was supposed to be. Just ask Quistis."  
  
The woman nodded, and motioned over to Vincent - who stood like a statue watching the small exchange. "We could ask him for directions, Squall."  
  
They approached the Turk, but before they could say anything Vincent held up a hand. "Which Final Fantasy?" he asked.  
  
They looked puzzled, but after a moment Squall replied, "Final Fantasy VIII. Why do you ask?"  
  
"This is Final Fantasy VII, so I haven't seen who you're looking for."  
  
"We're in the wrong game?" Irvine rubbed his neck. "How'd that happen?"  
  
"I don't know, but we need to find our way back. We don't have time for this," Squall said before he took off. Quistis followed close behind, but Irvine tipped his hat before he left.  
  
Vincent waited a little longer. Pretty soon a woman glowing bright pink came flying down the street. Vincent pointed to where Setzer and Shadow had gone. "Wrong game. Your friends went that way."  
  
The woman said nothing, but flew off in the indicated direction.  
  
After she had gone, Vincent looked up at the sky and said, "Are you done yet?"  
  
*Hmm. I had planned on using characters from IX, but I suppose I can end it here.*  
  
"That would be appreciated," he told the author.  
  
*All right. Section done.*  
  
6:11 p.m. Elmyra's house in Kalm.  
  
Sephiroth ducked; the vase passed over his head and hit the wall, sending water and flowers and porcelain to splatter across the painted surface. Elmyra threw a clothes iron at him next, which he barely dodged and also left a nice hole in the wall. She reached for the butcher knife lying on the kitchen counter. Sephiroth hid behind the door, a soft yelp escaping lips as the tip of the blade came through the door, mere centimeters from his neck.  
  
"Mom, stop it!" Aeris cried.  
  
"Don't worry, dear," the older woman said sweetly. "I won't let him hurt you again."  
  
"I'm worried about *you* hurting *him*. Mom, put the skillet down!" Aeris grabbed her mother's hands, trying to get the heavy iron pan away from the enraged woman. Had it been anyone else, Aeris wouldn't have worried; Sephiroth was more than capable of fending off and angry mob, nevertheless one angry mother. But Elmyra was her mother, and for that reason alone, Sephiroth wouldn't raise a finger against her - placing him in a rather compromising situation. "Mom, don't hurt him," she pleaded. "Let me explain."  
  
"Dear?"  
  
"Sephiroth isn't going to hurt me. He's my boyfriend. Mom? Mom!"  
  
Elmyra had feinted.  
  
8:00 p.m. Highwind.  
  
Cloud still sat in the same chair, and still looked like a disheveled mass. Red XIII sat on the floor beside him. He was the one to address Tifa, Barret, and Yuffie. "All right. While the three of you are in the ShinRa building, I'll stay here with Cloud. We'll" - he paused and looked at the spiky-haired youth before correcting himself - "I'll make sure the Highwind is prepared for take-off."  
  
"Where will we go?" asked Tifa.  
  
"Wutai. It's the only place not under ShinRa's dominion. We'll be safe there." He focused on Yuffie. "We'll wait for you so you can deliver the disk to the Reckoning, but you must hurry."  
  
The ninja nodded.  
  
"Very well. Is everyone ready?"  
  
There was a resounding, "Yeah!"  
  
"Then let us waste no more time, and set to our plans."  
  
8:58 p.m. Junon.  
  
Yuffie followed Barret and Tifa through the streets. The sun had set, leaving the streetlights to provide punctuated circles of safety from the dark. They came to the ShinRa headquarters, took a side alley, and went around to the rear entrance of the building. No light penetrated the black of the alley, forcing the trio to find their way by feel alone. A scuffling followed by a crash and a curse broke the tense silence. Barret had tripped over a trashcan. The sudden noise startled Yuffie, who jumped back and fell over yet another trashcan.  
  
"Shhhhh," Tifa hissed. "Be quiet or we'll get caught."  
  
As though on cue, the alarms in the building went off. The Avalanche members froze in place, waiting for the soldiers they were sure to come. There was the feint, brief sound of hurried feet on the other side of the door, but it never opened.  
  
It was Yuffie who realized what was happening. "This is it!" she said. "This is the distraction!"  
  
"Then let's hurry up and get this over with!" Barret cried, over- enthusiastically. He felt around and found the door again, and then kicked it in. Red and white flashing lights shot out into the alley. He ran inside, Tifa and Yuffie close behind. They were in a concrete stairwell, with another door across from them - most likely leading into the main floor of the building. "What floor did that JT character say that disk was on, again?"  
  
"Fourth floor," the ninja responded. "Ah, Rufus's office, most likely."  
  
"Then that's where we'll start looking," he said and began to run up the stairs.  
  
They met with no resistance. It seemed the distraction was working. or no one was bothering to check the stairs. They preferred to think it was the former.  
  
They reached the top, and paused before opening the door. On the other side was a long hall, five doors along its length and one at its far end. They opened the first door; in the room beyond they saw Palmer's massive rear protruding from under his desk. They exchanged nervous glances, and closed the door. Behind the next door was another office, this one empty. Tifa stayed behind to search it while Barret and Yuffie continued on. The next office was empty as well. Barret stayed behind and Yuffie continued on by herself.  
  
She approached the next door, but a noise beyond made her pause. Pressing her ear to the door, she listened for a moment. Hearing voices on the other side, she carefully opened the door a crack and peeked around it. Inside, she saw Scarlet - who looked a bit beat up - sitting on her desk and Vincent standing beside her. She strained to understand what they were saying.  
  
"I wonder what this is all about?" Scarlet was questioning.  
  
"Some vigilante attack apparently," Vincent responded.  
  
"Avalanche?"  
  
He shook his head. "Don't know. Soldiers have been sent to track them down and find out exactly whom they are."  
  
"You're not going with them?"  
  
"Reno and Rude are leading two separate teams. They don't need me with them. And since the president isn't here, my priorities are mine to choose."  
  
"Hmm, really?" Scarlet grabbed Vincent's tie; she used it to pull him close so that she could kiss him. Entangling her fingers in his hair, she pulled him even closer - almost on top of her.  
  
Yuffie nearly gagged. She shut the door as quickly and quietly as she could, and did her best not to lose her lunch. *Vincent and Scarlet?! She's why he's back with the ShinRa? That's so gross! What the heck is he thinking?!*  
  
She crept away from Scarlet's office - and the disturbing scene she had just witnessed - and down to the second to last door. However, she decided to skip over it when she heard Heideger's voice from the other side, screaming about how he's not appreciated and the crappy company security isn't his fault and how dare that Scarlet get all haughty with him.  
  
She stopped and listened outside the final door - what she assumed was Rufus's office - and, after verifying that there was no one inside, entered. She began her search with the desktop, but only found forms and schematics, which she didn't understand. She then went through each of the drawers; she found some disks in the third drawer, but all were labeled with company departments. She assumed none of them were what she was looking for. She finished searching the drawers, frustrated that she hadn't found anything. She then ran her hands along the underside of the desk, feeling for any irregularities. Her eyes widened, a grin breaking out across her face as her fingers discovered a small, flat, square package. She pulled it off, the tape giving way, and stuffed it in her pocket. *Time to go*, she thought.  
  
Yuffie ran out of the office and collided with Barret and Tifa. "I've got it. Let's get out of her." Together, they raced down the hall and back down the stairs, which they took three at a time.  
  
At the bottom, Tifa and Barret took a step toward the street, but turned back and said, "Give it to them and get back to the Highwind as fast as you can. We don't want to take any chances of getting caught by the ShinRa."  
  
"All right. See you soon." Yuffie ran down the alley. She continued until she came to the manhole JT had shown her. It was more difficult for her smaller frame, but she removed the cover and replaced it when she was in. She made her way through the sewers, but she never made it to the Reckoning's hideout. She ran into JT - and the rest of the Reckoning - around the second bend.  
  
"Not that way," he told her, partly joking but mostly serious.  
  
"What's going on?" Yuffie asked, more than a little concerned.  
  
"ShinRa's found out where we're staying. We have to evacuate."  
  
"Where we gonna go, JT?" someone questioned.  
  
"Not sure, but we need to get out of Junon."  
  
"Well, you can come with me and Avalanche to Wutai. We'll be safe from ShinRa. You can hide there," Yuffie suggested.  
  
"Lead on." Underneath his mask, Rufus smiled. Way too easy. He waved for the others to follow.  
  
It was difficult trying to lead a group of twelve renegades through a military town without getting caught - especially with as many soldiers out and about as there were. Somehow, with JT's help, Yuffie managed to pull it off. It took much longer than she had expected, and worried that the others might have left, but the Highwind was still there when they left the city. Waiting on its deck was Red XIII, who didn't seemed at all surprised that she came with guests in tow.  
  
9:45 p.m. Scarlet's apartment.  
  
Vincent sat on the edge of the bed and watched Scarlet while she slept. The attack on the building had raised all hell, and with the amount of pandemonium, he'd been apprehensive about letting her go home by herself. So, he had insisted on escorting her home - not that she had argued with him. He told her he would stay until she fell asleep; now that she was, he figured he should probably go home and go to bed himself.  
  
Carefully, quietly, he rose from his seat and made his way through the apartment to the front door, which he opened and closed with the utmost care. The Turk proceeded down the street with a purposeful stride. He ignored the numerous soldiers roaming the streets, and they likewise ignored him. Besides, his mind was elsewhere.  
  
Cloud and the others would get blamed for the incidence, he was sure of it. He hoped that they would have enough sense to leave the area and head someplace safer. Wutai would be the obvious and best choice.  
  
After two blocks, Vincent began to wonder exactly with whom his loyalties would lay if push came to shove. Cid would undoubtedly side with Avalanche, but he wasn't so sure about himself. There was a fine line between the man he was and the man he was expected to be. In the end, he would have to decide which he was going to be: Turk or Avalanche member, father of planet avenger, lover or friend. Should he keep the job that had made him into the man he was? Should he continue to try and make up for lost time with Sephiroth? Should he strengthen his relationship with Scarlet? Or did he abandon it all and help the people he had fought and suffered with, people who had called him friend? He hoped he would never face that dilemma, but something in the back of his mind, a part of him that was fearful and alone, whispered that the time for him to choose was fast approaching.  
  
*Damn it!* the vampire thought. *Can't they see that the battle is over? Why must they be so stubborn about all of this?* He immediately scolded himself for thinking such things. After all, they were only fighting for what they perceived as a just cause, even though they made more problems than they solved. Even though it meant they would be rebuked by the entire world. Even though it meant they would most certainly be hunted down and eventually killed. He winced at the thought that he might be the one sent to do the dirty work; it was a very probable possibility. He didn't know if he could do it.  
  
Vincent was so lost in thought, he nearly missed his apartment building. The depressing thoughts that had monopolized his mind on his journey home weighed down on him, stripping him of vitality. He ascended the stairs, each step taking more effort than the last. Finally reaching his apartment, he fumbled with the keys, managed to open the door, closed it behind him, and collapsed on his bed - not bothering to undress, and fast asleep before his head had hit the pillow. 


	8. Day 8

Day Eight  
  
12:34 a.m. Highwind.  
  
Yuffie sat on the floor of the Highwind's main bay, looking angry and hurt. She had been there since they had left Junon, but everyone had been so caught up in the whole mess with the Reckoning that no one had paid attention to her. It was JT who finally approached her to see what the problem was. "Yuffie? What's wrong?"  
  
She looked up into his masked face, and then returned her gaze to the floor. "Nothing," she replied flatly.  
  
"Nothing," he repeated skeptically. "Right. So you always look this disgruntled when you travel?" When she didn't say anything, he sighed and sat down next to her. "All right, if you don't want to talk, I won't press."  
  
There was a long moment of silence. Neither of them spoke, or even moved, but only sat and listened to the machinery at work around them. At last, Yuffie said, "A friend of mine turned traitor."  
  
"Turned traitor?"  
  
"Yeah. He had been fighting with us until Avalanche split up. Then, when we found out Rufus ShinRa wasn't dead, we also found out that he'd joined ShinRa as a Turk. He wouldn't tell us why. But while we were in the building, I saw him with one of the. He was" - she gagged - "kissing her!"  
  
"I. um. see. I suppose that could be upsetting." he responded, not quite sure what she was talking about.  
  
"I mean, it's bad enough that he drove a knife into our backs, but he has to twist it in by dating that witch, to boot!" She stood up in her anger, but the sudden movement made her woozy, forcing her to sit back down. Once the bay had ceased its spinning, she continued her ranting. "I just don't understand how he could do this to us. I thought he was on our side. He said he wasn't with ShinRa anymore. He lied to us! That freaky creep lied to us!"  
  
Rufus pretended to listen with sympathy, reacting accordingly without truly thinking about it, but his mind was on completely different matters. *Okay. At our current speed, we should arrive in Wutai within the next two hours. Then it's up to this annoying brat to get us in. Hmm. Where to go from there will depend on Godo's reaction to the situation. It may actually take a few days for the proper opportunity to strike to present itself. I hope not. I don't want to stay there any longer than I have to. * His mind was drawn away from his plotting by movement at the corner of his vision. He looked over to find Red XIII padding over to them.  
  
Rufus had worried that the canine would recognize his scent, and had prayed that the heavy cloth of his disguise - which reeked of mildew and dank stone from running around in those sewers - would cover up his own scent. So far it seemed to have been working. Heaven knows *he* couldn't smell anything else. He was just grateful that they had managed to avoid the more unpleasant areas of the Junon sewers. He wasn't sure if he could have dealt with that.  
  
"I heard shouting, and thought I'd check to see what was happening. Is everything all right?" Red XIII asked.  
  
"Yuffie's a bit upset," he answered.  
  
"I'm not upset!" she screamed.  
  
Rufus held up his hands, feigning compliance. "All right, all right. You're not upset." He turned back to Red XIII, chose his next words, and voiced them carefully. "She's vividly contemplating an apparently emotionally trying situation."  
  
"I see." The canine sat down, and studied Yuffie for a moment before asking, "So what 'emotionally trying' situation are you 'contemplating'?"  
  
The young ninja's face went from anger to depression. "You know how Vincent wouldn't tell us why he went back to ShinRa?"  
  
Red XIII became nervous, his furry features looking slightly panicked. Yuffie took it as him being worried over what she would say next, and Rufus did as well, at first. But something in the warrior-dog's manner said it wasn't so.  
  
Yuffie continued in a lower voice, as if afraid to say what she knew must now be said. "I. I know why he joined up with the ShinRa again." There was a slight pause, in which she gathered her will. "He went back because. because he's. he's." She couldn't force the words out; they were so revolting to her, she choked on them before they reached her lips.  
  
"Yes," Red XIII urged, though it was obvious to Rufus that he didn't want to hear the answer.  
  
"He's dating Scarlet!" she blurted out.  
  
*So, that was whom he was speaking of, * Red thought. *Scarlet must be the "answer to his pain." A rather unorthodox combination. I never would have imagined it. Oh, but Yuffie, if you only knew what his other reasons were. But I am sworn to silence, and cannot reveal what I know. *  
  
Meanwhile, in Rufus's mind, *So, that's why Scarlet has been so cheery the last few days. I was beginning to think the doctor had put her on morphine, or something. No matter. It's none of my business. If it doesn't interfere with their work, I don't care. *  
  
"Well, despite the. disturbing news," Red XIII spoke haltingly, "try to get some rest. We'll be at Wutai in a few hours." He stood and walked to the bridge, leaving Yuffie to sit alone with JT in the main bay once more.  
  
2:03 a.m. Highwind.  
  
Rufus sat at one end of the table, head leaned back and arms crossed. He was sick of having to wear that stupid get-up, but he couldn't risk Avalanche finding out who he truly was. The soldiers with him had decided - without him needing to tell them, surprisingly enough - to leave their masks on as well, giving the impression that it was simply the Reckoning's way. or that they were all paranoid. It didn't matter to Rufus, so long as it worked.  
  
Across the table sat Cloud. Yes, still in the same seat and still a disheveled mass. Lining the sides of the table was the Reckoning. Some watched Rufus. Others stared at the walls or ceiling. One suspiciously eyed Cloud. All were bored, but that was to be expected. It wasn't as if there was anything to do. At least they were behaving themselves; some had been too eager to pass up the opportunity to start a fight with Avalanche, and Rufus had barely gotten them under control before Yuffie had arrived. That particular incidence had cut it a little closer than he had preferred.  
  
The disguised president ignored everyone else in the room, and mentally went over his plan for the seventieth time that night. It was a gamble. One screw-up on any of the soldiers' parts could bring the entire thing down on their heads. Not to mention, if Godo and the rest of Wutai didn't act to his predictions, things could get ten times more complicated. Too many possibilities. Too many variables. It was all giving him a headache. More than ever, he wanted it all to be done and over with. The sooner it was taken care of, the sooner he could turn his attention back to things nowhere near as stressful.  
  
*We should have been there by now, * he mentally complained.  
  
As if he'd read his mind, Barret walked in and jerked his thumb over his shoulder. "We're here. Time to go."  
  
JT nodded, and motioned for the rest of the Reckoning to follow him, which they all did without uttering a word. *Finally. Just a little longer and it'll all be over with, he assured himself. Just a little longer. *  
  
Later at Godo's home.  
  
"Dad, please. They're trying to help put an end to ShinRa. They need a place to lie low for a while. It won't be long."  
  
"Yuffie," Godo scolded, "we don't even know who they are. How can you be so sure we can trust them?"  
  
*Damn it. * JT stood behind Yuffie and a little to the side. The rest of the Reckoning waited in the prayer chambers down the hall. *He just has to be difficult. Oh well. I knew it wasn't going to be easy. *  
  
"Dad." the younger ninja whined.  
  
"Yuffie." That was all he said, but the look on his face was enough to keep her from saying anymore. He looked past his daughter to JT. His eyes narrowed. "I suppose you're the leader of this little group of refugees?"  
  
The young man did his best to sound nervous. "Um, yes, sir."  
  
"You're name," came the demand.  
  
"JT, sir."  
  
"How many people?"  
  
"Twelve. not counting myself."  
  
"How long do you intend to stay?"  
  
"Only a few days. We just want to hang low until things settle down. Then we'll be on our way."  
  
Godo stood very still, the intensity of his eyes trying to bore holes into the darkly clad figure before him. Failing to do that, he turned to his daughter, whose face was pleading. A low growl emanated from his throat before he said, "Very well. You and your group may hide in Wutai."  
  
*Yes! *  
  
"We'll send them individually to different buildings so they'll be easier to conceal."  
  
*Yeah, and easier for you to keep an eye on us. *  
  
"You'll stay here."  
  
"Thank you." *Oh, great. Well, at least I'll be close enough to take him out right at the get-go. *  
  
At that point, Godo left the room, obviously discontented with his decision. But what else could he do? If he said no, it would upset Yuffie, and their relationship had enough stress as it was. No, best to let them stay and simply keep a close eye on them. Besides, there were only thirteen of them. If they were separated, then it wouldn't be too hard to keep them under control. But there was something wrong with that JT person. Godo wasn't sure what it was, but there was definitely something. It seemed he had heard that name before, but where? He resolved to find out. Perhaps the other Wutai, masters would recognize him.  
  
Rufus watched Godo's retreating back, even after the door closed and the man was no longer visible. *He knows something, * the young president thought. *The question is exactly what does he know? This could be trouble. * He suddenly realized what it was that troubled Godo. It wasn't the Reckoning. It was himself. Godo must know it was JT that killed his wife. He smiled wickedly beneath his mask. *If that's the case, then it could be exactly what we're looking for. *  
  
"JT?"  
  
He pulled his mind from his plotting yet again, and turned to face Yuffie. "Huh?"  
  
"What's wrong?"  
  
"Uh, nothing. Just trying to think of where to relocate the Reckoning," he lied.  
  
"Well, there's time for that later. Come on, we have to find someplace to stick everyone. They're all waiting."  
  
"Yeah, let's go."  
  
One soldier to each building, with every soldier placed according to skill and living arrangement so as to provide the best chances for success - not that the people of Wutai knew that. To them, JT was simply picking people at random, not carefully assessing each individual and the location of the building with respect to each of his soldiers' abilities.  
  
It didn't take him long to decide on where to station everyone; the tricky part was giving them their orders without giving them orders. He couldn't openly tell them what to do. That would be suicide. And the people of Wutai didn't trust them enough to leave a group that size alone. So, Rufus was forced to be evasive. *Just try to relax. We'll only be here a few days. Just stay where you are until we're ready to go. I'll tell you when. * Translation: "Stay where you are and keep up the charade. When I give the signal, secure your area." He only hoped they got the message, and would know the signal when it happened.  
  
*Just a little longer, * he promised himself. again. as if it helped. *Then it'll all be over, and I won't have to worry. Have the soldiers trash Wutai, with Avalanche taking the blame. The citizens of the world will be more terrified of Avalanche then ever, and will turn back to ShinRa for help. As for the people of Wutai, most of the adults will probably die fighting in the attack. That will leave the children without homes. Well, that's what orphanages are for. Not exactly the best living conditions, though. I'll have to arrange some funds so improvements can be made. My plans will be what puts them there. I should at least make it tolerable. Anyway, there's time for all that later. *  
  
6:20 a.m. Godo's house.  
  
Rufus hadn't bothered to dress down and make himself at home, as Yuffie had suggested. Instead, he stared out the window and awaited the confrontation that was sure to come. He looked out upon the scenery with disinterest, untouched by the beauty that lay before him. The sun was beginning to peek over the horizon, casting the landscape in shadows and hues of fire. Clouds, pink with reflected light, drifted lazily across a purple and crimson sky. Traces of green and gold lined the silhouettes of the trees that surrounded Wutai, and hid the shoreline from view; beyond it lay an ocean that sparkled lake red. The growing light played across the surface of the Dachao Statues, outlining their features in the sharp contrast created by the shadows.  
  
There was the sound of an opening door and two heavy footsteps behind him, far too heavy to be Yuffie. *So it begins. Here we go. * He didn't turn around, and addressed Godo with cold indifference. "Do you wish to speak with me?"  
  
"I remember you. You were with the ShinRa during the war," the older man accused.  
  
Rufus nodded once.  
  
"You're the general that killed my wife."  
  
Rufus decided to have some fun, and kept playing the part. "A lot of good people died in that meaningless war. I admit that I played my part in the killing. I don't remember everyone who died at my hands, but if your wife was one of them, then I'm truly sorry."  
  
"Saying that doesn't bring her back. It doesn't change the fact that she's dead because of you."  
  
"I realize that, but what else can I do? I can't change the past. Believe me. I wish I could bring back all those who have died because of me." *Oh, man. I'm such a ham. Don't tell me this guy's buying all of this. *  
  
"I suppose I can't place all the blame on you," Godo muttered through gritted teeth. "We were at war, and I shouldn't expect you to take note of every individual you faced."  
  
Rufus chuckled mentally, but made no outward reaction. *Geez, he actually believes this tripe. He's a bigger sap than I thought. *  
  
"I'm sorry I got so upset. It was a long time ago. I should let it go, but I just can't seem to forget." He turned away to hide his shame.  
  
"It's perfectly understandable," he said as he withdrew a knife from his boot. "But if it bothers you so much to be without her, I can easily send you to meet her."  
  
Even as Godo turned to face him, Rufus took two quick steps toward the ninja, and embedded the blade deep into his side. Godo screamed in pain. However, he refused to give in so easily. He reached out and took hold of JT's wrist with one arm; with the other he struck his opponent in the joint of his shoulder. Rufus's arm muscles spasmed and released the knife as his shoulder was forced from its socket; he staggered back, clutching his disjointed appendage.  
  
Godo knew he shouldn't remove the knife, but he couldn't fight with it in his side. He pulled it out, felt himself grow dizzy with the pain. He took a brief instant to examine the blade - a serrated edge that probably caused more damage coming out than it did going in - before he let it drop to the floor.  
  
Rufus took the opportunity to tend his dislocated limb. He went to the closest wall, and rammed the back of his shoulder into it at an upward angle, shoving the bone back into its proper place - a little trick he'd learned from Sephiroth back during the war. He rotated his arm both ways to ensure it was functioning properly; it popped and cracked as it turned.  
  
Satisfied he had full use of his arm, Rufus looked to where Godo stood, one hand over the hole in his side and the other raised in a defensive position. He was waiting for JT to strike first. *Fine by me, * he thought. He took his own stance - one arm held in front of him, prepared to defend from any attacks, and the other drawn slightly back to his side.  
  
"Why are you doing this?" Godo pleaded.  
  
"I'm just doing what should have been done in the first place," he responded, a sharp malicious edge to his voice. He moved in closer.  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
Rufus didn't fall for Godo's attempt to buy time. He sent a punch to Godo's stomach, and while that was being blocked, he brought his elbow up to Godo's chin. The ninja stumbled back a step, but recovered quickly and retaliated by taking JT's legs out from beneath him with a low back-swipe. The president landed on his back. He planted a boot on Godo's sternum, twisted, and struck him across the face with his other foot. Placing his hands palm-down beside his head, Rufus swung his legs over his head and back to the floor while pushing up with his hands. The motion launched him back onto his feet.  
  
Godo was still gasping from the kick to his chest, and a thin trail of blood ran from the corner of his mouth to his chin. He coughed and spat out a tooth. He then got to his feet, and wiped the blood from his lip. Holding both fists in front of him, Godo stepped in closer. He made a fast punch to JT's chest, but the younger man was faster. Rufus grabbed Godo's wrist, and threw him through the sliding doors out into the garden. He casually stepped through the broken glass, and followed Godo out, who was already picking himself off the ground.  
  
*Damn, this is one tough bastard,* the president thought. *I'm impressed, but no matter. *  
  
Four quick steps brought Rufus in close. He jumped up, his right foot connecting with Godo's chin in a high kick while he swung his left leg up and brought it down on Godo's shoulder.  
  
The combination drove Godo to his knees. He gathered what strength he could, and struck out with his own leg in another swipe - this one aimed higher. It connected with the back of JT's knee, which buckled but didn't break as he had hoped.  
  
Rufus hit the ground, and rolled away just as Godo's other leg came down toward his torso. Both men clambered to their feet. They watched each other wearily, assessing the other's abilities and physical condition. It was obvious to them both that Godo was losing the battle. "Not bad, old man," Rufus said. "This was actually kind of fun, but it's time for the game to end. So, why don't we put an end to all this?"  
  
Godo's eyes narrowed. His muscles tensed. He knew he was about to die, and he regretted never having fully repaired his relationship with Yuffie. Now he would never be able to tell her all the things he had planned to tell her, things he had wanted her to know. It seemed his life had been so short, so much of it wasted. "And what are you going to do once you've killed me?" he asked. His voice was hoarse and strained; it sounded like it belonged to another person.  
  
Rufus didn't respond. Instead, he tattooed Godo's chest and face with a series of punches and kicks that sent the man to his hands and knees. The young president placed a boot between Godo's shoulder blades, and forced him the rest of the way to the ground. Kneeling, he spoke in a low tone, "You want to know what I'm going to do?" He ground his boot into Godo's spine; the man grunted in pain, but otherwise remained silent. Rufus leaned down, and evilly whispered, "I'm going to destroy Wutai. By tomorrow, it'll be no more than a memory." Without another word, he took hold of Godo's head and snapped his neck. He kicked the body, and let it roll into the fishpond, where it floated face down.  
  
*Now it's time to go take care of those losers in the tower. When Yuffie gets back from visiting with her Avalanche buddies, she can tell everyone her old man's dead. And then the real fun begins. *  
  
He walked around the back and to the side of the house, where he peeked around the corner. A villager was approaching the front door. *Hmm, it seems things are going to move a little quicker than I thought. That's even better.* He watched as the person knocked on the door, waited, and then knocked again. When there was no reply, he entered the house. *Time to go.* Rufus made his way to the tower so he could eliminate the rest of the masters. Back in the house, the villager screamed, and pandemonium broke out in Wutai.  
  
The soldiers had little trouble in taking care of Wutai's citizens; the weapons and materia dealers proved a little more difficult, but in the end, they too fell to ShinRa's better-trained soldiers.  
  
Yuffie returned toward the beginning of the slaughter, but quickly discovered she was no match for the Reckoning. She left to fetch Avalanche, but returned too late. Most of the buildings were burning, and all the adult citizens were dead. The Reckoning was nowhere to be found. When they found Godo's body, Yuffie lost it. She fell to her knees, weeping. "Why? Why did they do this? I. I thought they wanted to help. Why did they do this?!"  
  
Tifa knelt down and wrapped her arms around the young ninja's trembling shoulders. "Yuffie, be strong. We'll find them. Don't worry. They'll pay for this. We won't let them get away with this."  
  
"Dad, I'm so sorry," Yuffie sobbed. "This is all my fault. You warned me."  
  
"Yuffie," Red XIII voiced gently. "We must go. If we're caught here, we'll never be able to avenge Wutai. We must leave. Now."  
  
"He's right," Barret said with unusual compassion. "We've gotta get outta here."  
  
The girl nodded, and allowed herself to be led away from her father's corpse.  
  
They exited the building to find the pagoda tower starting to catch fire. JT was limping out the front door with the aid of two of the Reckoning; he looked pretty beat up. A few seconds later, the rest of the Reckoning followed them out. Some of them were obviously injured, but none seriously. They didn't notice Avalanche - or chose to ignore them - and began to make their way out of Wutai.  
  
"Hey!" Barret cried. "You dirty stinking bastards! What do you think you're doing?!"  
  
JT said something, which they couldn't hear, but they got an idea when one of the Reckoning chucked a grenade in their direction. "Run!" Tifa ordered, and everyone scattered. The grenade went off; she was caught in the blast and thrown into the fencing of the gong house. She hit the ground and didn't move, a puddle of blood forming around her.  
  
Red XIII took some shards of concrete expelled by the explosion, and Barret received minor burns to his arms and back. Yuffie avoided the blast, but fell and broke her wrist. They looked to where Tifa had fallen, and cried her name in unison.  
  
"Oh, no. What do we do?"  
  
"We must get her back to the Highwind, quickly."  
  
"Then why are we standing around yapping? Let's hurry up and go!"  
  
As carefully and quickly as possible, they picked Tifa up, and carried her back to the Highwind, leaving Wutai to burn.  
  
11:01 a.m. Wutai's coast.  
  
The soldiers had tended to Rufus's wounds as best they could; he would need professional medical attention, but the first aid would suffice until they reached a hospital. His injuries were surprisingly few, considering he had faced and conquered all five Wutai masters single-handedly. He had a sprained and swollen ankle, bruised and bloodied knuckles, cracked ribs, a black eye, a bloody nose, and numerous other bruises and scrapes. They had found him on the first floor of the tower, leaning against a wall and breathing heavily. Four bodies were lying about in various mangled forms.  
  
When President Rufus had first enlisted them for the mission, they had all thought they would end up babysitting their employer. Now, they looked on him with nothing short of worship. Not only was he a rich suit with a brain and good looks, he was a one-man army second only to Sephiroth. On top of that, he had done what they had seen his father as too gutless to do: completely wipe Wutai off the map and eliminate it as an opposing factor.  
  
"Lieutenant Pax," Rufus wheezed, his cracked ribs - though bandaged - still making it hard for him to breathe.  
  
"Yes, sir?" the soldier replied enthusiastically.  
  
"Lieutenants Nicholas and Griffen can escort me back to Junon. I want you to take the others and search the Wutai area to ensure there's no one left, and that all the buildings have been destroyed. After you've done that, return to Junon."  
  
"Yes, sir! . But, sir, can I ask you something?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"What's the point of all this?"  
  
Rufus thought about exactly what he wanted to tell them; he decided it would be best to let them in on the main plot. After all, they had blindly and obediently followed his orders through the entire ordeal. "The point of all this is to one: get rid of Wutai as a possible threat, and two: get rid of Avalanche."  
  
"How does this get rid of Avalanche?"  
  
"Wutai has been destroyed, leaving many children homeless. When all of you get back to Junon, word will leak out that Avalanche was the one to do it. Soldiers will be sent to gather the orphans and take them to the orphanages."  
  
"Uh, sir?" one soldier interrupted.  
  
"Yes?" Rufus said, slightly irritated.  
  
"The orphanages aren't exactly in prime condition. Is it wise to send them there?"  
  
"Don't worry about that. I'll have funds diverted to improving their standards. Now, back to the point. Avalanche will be seen as vigilante terrorists, and become wanted worldwide. They'll be outcasts, and everyone will be out for their heads. They won't be able to go anywhere without getting trouble from the authorities, and they'll only be able to run and hide for so long. Eventually, they'll be hunted down and wiped out, and ShinRa will never have to worry about them again."  
  
"Oh. That makes sense."  
  
"Of course it makes sense. But now that you know all this, just remember to keep it to yourselves. You never went to Wutai. If anyone asks where you've been the last few days, just tell them it's confidential."  
  
"Yes, sir!" the soldiers voiced.  
  
"All right. You know your orders so get going. A transport ship will pick you up here tomorrow."  
  
"Yes, sir!" They saluted, and raced off to do as they were told.  
  
Rufus lay down on the sand, and waited for the ship that was to pick up him and the two remaining soldiers. He thought about the events of the last four days. It had been too long since he had actually done anything besides sit behind a desk. It was fun, despite the complications and unpleasantness of their travel. He was pretty sure he'd have to shower at least ten times before the smell of the sewers would come off his skin, and he'd simply have the clothes burnt.  
  
His mind drifted over to thoughts of Yuffie. She probably blamed herself for the entire mess. He made a note to bring that up if he ever saw her again. The thought of taking her emotional pain and rubbing her face in it was rather amusing to him, and it helped him forget some of the pain he was in. Ah, there was no better anesthetic than an enemy's misery.  
  
A/N: Okay. Part two of Turn the Page is done. It'll be continued in part three: Nothing Else Matters - which will be another FFVII fic. And for those who don't know where to find the first part and wish to read, it's called For Whom the Bell Tolls. 


End file.
